Grey Winged Angels and Demons
by sarah.yy.young
Summary: Yuri K. tries to cope with his insecurities and defeat his anxiety and Viktor tries his best to reassure his beloved that he loves him no matter what and they grow their relationship after GPF. Yuri P. has to cope with his own insecurities while dealing with his growing body, and deciding just who Otabek Altin is to him. But he who was forgotten refuses to be left behind.
1. Chapter 1 - After the GPF

Yuuri sat crossed legged on the bed, scrolling through SNS on his phone that evening, silver medal lying next to him on the hotel lamp table. There were many photos of that day's competition from the fans with hundreds of thousands of comments each. There were also photos posted by his fellow competitors from that day; JJ posted one with he and Isabella posing with his bronze medal, Phichit posted several selfies of himself with various staff, fans and fellow competitors, including Yuuri and Viktor, and Otabek had posted a photo of the empty rink along with a thoughtful quote and congrats to all the Grand Prix Finalists, and also a short video of Yurio's free skate. Chris had a singular selfie with Minako and his fans, still wearing that flower crown and looking as seductive as ever. Yurio too posted one of himself still in costume, holding his gold medal, a slight smirk on his face, next to Yakov and Lilia, though Yuuri thought his younger namesake looked a bit dissatisfied. Was it because Yuuri had one-up'd him in the free skate? Yuuri kept scrolling; more fan posts, more of his best friend's selfies, more fan posts, some articles about the competition intermixed, more of Phichit's photos. Then he saw it; Viktor had taken a selfie with the he, Yurio, and JJ on the podiums behind him, and his coach looked so proud. Of course while they were in the kiss and cry, Viktor had already told him that but still, the look on Viktor's face, his sparkling crystal grey-blue eyes and his huge grin only confirmed it further.

And then there was the photo after, where he had surprised Yuri grabbing him by his silver medal and kissing him on his cheek while snapping a photo; Yuuri blushed upon looking at his blushing and shocked face. There were over 6k comment on that photo. It had its own news article. Yuuri died a little...okay A LOT internally. Even though he and Viktor were sorta, kinda, maybe, probably engaged and about 87% of the world's population declared them a legitimate couple, Yuuri was still embarrassed. He looked at the gold ring on his finger. They had posted on SNS of their intertwined hands with the rings the same day they were exchanged in front of the church…but it was captioned as "good luck" charms. They stood for more not soon after though. Viktor had kissed him before that day in China, and on that day, but that night in Barcelona after they got back to their hotel room…Yuuri had made the first move and it only escalated after that. To this day Yuuri found nothing hotter than Viktor cursing in Russian as Yuuri got f**ked into the hotel mattress. And finding his thoughts drifting back to that night, Yuuri locked his phone and buried his now reddened face into his hands. Even now…he was unsure of just exactly what he and Viktor were. Especially now that Yuuri was staying and Viktor was returning to the ice. They were competitors, partners, coach and pupil; as one era ended Yuuri saw another begin. He still felt subpar to Viktor; perhaps he always will feel that way, or was it just his anxiety taking over again. Even now…he wondered what Viktor saw in him, why he stayed, if he'd stay. _"OF COURSE HE'LL STAY,"_ Yuuri thought to himself. _"Stop doubting that! Viktor said he'd stay and he will keep his word…right? Right…?"_ Oh yes, Yuuri's anxiety was definitely taking over again. It could be resolved if he just asked Viktor that one little question…once and for all. But he could never do that; he was poor little dime-a-dozen Japanese skater Katsuki Yuri. Viktor was Viktor Nikiforov, the living legend. Viktor Nikiforov who won five consecutive World Championships, five straight Grand Prix Finals, and numerous European championships. Viktor Nikiforov, whose free program record Yuuri just broke hours before. Viktor Nikiforov, who Yuuri had oogled over for over a decade if not more. THE Viktor Nikiforov who dropped everything to come and coach Yuuri. Yuuri still wonder how many lives he must have saved in his previous lives to deserve such an honor to even breathe the same air as Viktor.

Yuuri was having such an intense argument within his own head that he did not even notice Viktor returning to into the room with a ridiculously large bouquet of pink roses and a bottle of red wine. Viktor was about to try and grab Yuuri's attention when he noticed the man's forlorn expression reflected in the television screen. Viktor had seen that look too many times for his liking; Yuuri was doubting himself again. Yuuri's anxiety was a great and terrible mystery to Viktor, one he would love to expel from his beloved forever…if only he could. He set the wine down and made his way over to stand in front of Yuuri to block out his reflection in the TV; that finally snapped Yuuri out of his trance. He now looked shocked with lightly blushed cheeks at the elaborately arranged roses in front of him. "Viktor-" he started before he shut his mouth again; what could he even say with such a blanked out mind. Viktor nudged the roses into Yuuri's arms with a soft smile before sinking in next to him on the bed and setting his head on Yuuri' shoulder as Yuuri continued to stare at the roses, cheeks now a deeper pink. Yuuri chocked out a quick "thank you" before glancing over to Viktor. "Yuuri…I hope you're not listening to 'it'; you know it's all lies," Viktor chastened, referring to Yuuri's anxiety. The Japanese man stiffened again at the comment, stuttering out that he was not. "любимая-" "Okay maybe a little bit…but I'm getting better at ignoring it," Yuuri said. He was still staring at his roses. "Hmm…I know Yuuri, and I give you credit for your efforts. Still…I don't like to see you succumbing to your negative thoughts," Viktor replied. Yuuri sighed. "Viktor-" Yuuri began again.  
"Hmm?"  
"What now?" Yuuri asked.  
It was a short question, but it carried much weight and many more implications. It was left vague for a reason. Yuuri had not won gold, and he may never win gold with Viktor returning. _"I guess we are never getting married than…or maybe Viktor planned this from the start,"_ Yuuri thought. Viktor thought for a moment. "Well…I guess you're just going to have to work harder to earn my hand in marriage," Viktor replied, stoic faced and in a flat voice. At this, Yuuri was ready to die. "I mean…you already broke one of my records; cheer up Yuuri! I'm getting old and worn out; you'll have me beat in no time!" Viktor joked. Yuuri did not laugh back. _"Even then…Yurio would gladly and easily hand me defeat over and over again…"_ Yuri mourned in his head. "Yuuri. Talk to me." Viktor said. He set the roses onto the table along with Yuuri's silver medal and turned to face Yuuri, staring into his chocolate eyes. "What if I never win gold-" "You will-" "No Viktor, just IF; what if Yuri always beats me, what if I never beat you again, what if-" "YUURI," Viktor says a little louder. Yuuri stops talking immediately. Viktor sighed; he had done it again…accidently adding to Yuuri's anxiety with his marriage stipulations. He wasn't the best coach…but he was trying. Viktor then promptly stood up and squished Yuri's head into his stomach as he stroked his raven-colored hair, still slightly damp from his earlier shower. Yuuri let him, silently absorbing the scent of ice and expensive cologne distinctive to Viktor. "Oh Yuuri…I wish I could go into your head and kill off your anxiety once and for all. Why do you doubt yourself so much; you are so loved. You are such a treasure. You stomp over my world record and you still say you have no talent. You skate a program that took me months to perfect in a day, in a tiny rink for your friend, almost perfectly. It hurts me to see you like this still. Tell me Yuuri, what should I do? How should I save my precious Katsudon from his own evil thoughts?" Viktor asked, softly and sternly but full of affection and concern. Yuuri was not sure how to react or what to think…but his eyes were misty and he was ever so slightly shaking now. All he could manage was a choked "Oh". He then reached for Viktor's ring hand and brought it to his lips, pressing the gleaming ring to his lips. Viktor then knelt in front of Yuuri and used both hands to have Yuuri face him. He proceed to kiss away the tears Yuuri definitely did not have running down his cheeks and Yuuri weakly used a hand to wipe at the ones that Viktor did not have coming down his face. "Oh Yuuri…tonight was supposed to be happy; you won silver! And you beat my record!" "But I failed-"  
"No Yuuri, you did not. We may not be getting married yet, but I promised to stay with you forever. I promise to stay by your side forever, even after you retire, even if you choose to leave the ice, even if you never win gold"  
"But-"  
"No buts Yuuri; you're stuck with me forever," Viktor stated firmly. Yuuri stared at Viktor's stern face through their tears, and he knew his coach was serious.  
"Okay?"  
"Okay".

That night after their tears had dried, after the roses had been put in a vase, after Viktor had showered and joined Yuri under the sheets, as they cuddled and enjoyed the white noise of the outside world, they found a sort of peace. Soon Yuuri feel asleep, no dreams but no nightmare either, which is really all he could ask for at the moment. Viktor held Yuuri tightly as he stared at the lights peering through the cracks in the curtains, surrounding by the scent of Yuuri. Yuuri smelled of citrus for some reason, but Viktor liked it; it was warming in contrast to the cold of the ice. He thought sadly of how his love was still full of doubt and sadness and uncertainty; he felt so helpless. HE, Viktor Nikiforov, may be a master of ice but he was a failure to Yuuri. He could not save him from his the evil that was his anxiety. As he drifted off to sleep to the sound of the cars down below in the streets and Yuuri's gentle snores, he wondered if he could ever truly save Yuuri.

* * *

Yuri Plisetsky stared at the gold medal in his hands; he felt so numb. He had won, Yuuri was staying, Viktor was returning, and he had kicked the older Russian's short program record, so why did Yuri feel so empty. Maybe it was because Otabek had not made the podium; as much as JJ was a talented skater Yuri felt that Otabek had the stronger performance in both programs and should have won bronze. Oh well, Otabek would most definitely make the podium at Four Continents. Yuri had no doubts that he would. But why worry for Otabek. Yuri knew he was to face his greatest challenge yet. He may have made history, as he was born to do so, but he was up against both Yuuri AND Viktor. He was arrogant but not stupid; it would not be easy to repeat his performance at the Grand Prix. He needed new programs too, and this time he did not have the advantage of Viktor gifting him one. Still, he had to win. He had a reputation to uphold. He looked around his hotel room, the dozens of roses and cat plushies flung at him by fans. There was also a new tiger print phone case, courtesy of Mila, that now resided on his phone. Yuri hated himself, not only because he almost did not beat Yuuri but also because his body betrayed him so. He check his SNS again, scoffing at Viktor's selfie with Yuuri before shutting his phone, jamming the charger in and slamming the lights off. He then cuddled with a tiger plush gifted by a certain fellow skater that he definitely did not have a crush on.

* * *

*любимая (Beloved)

A/N: Hi guys…this is my first fanfiction in like 4 years. Yuri On Ice inspired me to start writing again. I am super receptive to suggestions, corrections, and constructive criticism so feel free to PM me and/or leave comments! I really appreciate that you've taken the time to read this fanfic 3. So thank you reader! And I hope you like this work :3.


	2. Chapter 2 - New Beginnings & Old Friends

Yuuri woke up alone, and in complete darkness. He groggily felt for his glasses from the bedside table and placed his glasses on his face; it did not help much. The bedside clock read 4:32 AM so he and Viktor would have to get up in a few hours anyways to catch the flight back to Japan. Or so he thought…because Viktor was not there. Yuuri made his way out of bed to turn on the rest of the lights, which not only confirmed that Viktor was not there, but all his luggage was also gone. Actually EVERYTHING was gone: the flowers, the sushi plushes, their backpacks; Yuuri was legitimately confused and slightly terrified.

" _WTF is going on..."_ he thought.  
Then the door clicked open again and Viktor walked in.

"Ah Viktor where did you-" Yuuri paused, because Viktor had a cold hard stare upon his face and his eyes were not the grey-blue he knew so well, but a flickering orange.

This was not Viktor.

As not-Viktor watched the look of realization dawn upon Yuuri's face he smirked. "Oh you don't like the form I've taken Yuuri? Tsk…too bad I guess." The figure then swiftly walked over to Yuuri and slammed him against the nearest wall. Yuuri tried to push the figure away, but Viktor had a good few inches and pounds of muscle and easy kept Yuuri pinned. "Tsk…you can't even defend yourself. You're too WEAK Yuuri; you always have been, you always will be. Poor Viktor left his pedestal to help your pathetic ass, and yet you have not won gold. Yuuri you are such a disappointment. He should have stayed in Russia, with Yuri," the figure taunted.

"LIES; you're not REAL," Yuuri screams, still struggling.

Not-Viktor leaned his face closer to Yuuri's. "Oh perhaps they are, but you made them Yuuri, not I. I am just a manifestation of your inner thoughts; I was simply reiterating these thoughts you made back to you. Or are you scaring yourself too much Yuuri." The figure than turns Yuuri around to face the other figures that had shown up. It was overwhelming and Yuuri could feel himself cracking. His parents' and Mari's disappointed stares, Christopher's mocking pitying remarks in French, Phichit's sad disapproving head shaking, JJ's laughing, Yuri's mocking and taunting.

There were so many people, and they were all judging him so hard. Yuuri was definitely cracking. He kept trying to tell himself that none of this was real, that it was all lies and that he needs to wake up. He needed to WAKE UP! Yet, he was doing this. They were not real but it was his mind, and all the insults thrown his way were born from his thoughts. He was doing this to himself; he was his own worst enemy. _"This was not real. This was not REAL. It felt so REAL."_ When Not-Viktor fling the gold ring off his finger into Yuuri's face he finally broke.

Yuuri bolted up screaming, and fell straight off the bed and almost passed out from the shock. His throat felt so raw and he felt that he was drowning in an ocean of his tears. Yuuri, disoriented, almost hyperventilating and sobbing, was finally awake though. The physical pain grounded him, but the emotional pain was still raw. His own mind was out to destroy him, nevermind the other competitors in the rink. His own MIND. The images of his peers and Viktor were still flashing before his eyes when someone tried to lift him off the ground and back onto the bed. At the sight of silver hair and the scent of cologne hitting his nose Yuuri freaked, unsure of if he was still dreaming. He pushed the figure away and scampered his way into having his back to the window. The slight lights from outside illuminated the silver hair…and grey-blue eyes. Hurt filled, shocked, slightly narrowed grey-blue eyes, which promptly disappeared as its owner stood up to turn on a couple lights. Viktor then joined Yuuri on the hotel floor, pulling the younger's entire body into his arms as he tried to calm Yuuri down from whatever it was that scared him so badly. Yuuri let him, shrinking himself and snuggling closer to Viktor as he tried to stabilize his breathing and stop the tears. Viktor knew it was bad; Yuuri had woken up screaming before but he had never seen Yuuri as shaken as he was now. Even when Viktor was being and idiot and threatened to quit as Yuuri's coach and made him cry in a parking lot it was not this bad. Viktor had woken to Yuuri's squirming next to him, and then he started to cry. Viktor had tried to wake him up, but not too long later Yuuri had woken up and gone off the bed. Viktor was easily just as confused and terrified.

It took a few minutes but eventually Yuuri stopped gulping air and his tears slowed. "любимая, what happened?" Viktor asked gently. He was hesitant as to how much he should probe. "Take our time. Tell as little or as much as you feel is best," Viktor said, arms still wrapped tightly around Yuuri in his lap, his cheek resting on top of Yuuri's head. Yuuri was silent. All was still, but it was not so calming. It was a frigid silence, the type that set in when all was not right. "It was a bad dream," Yuuri said simply. Viktor again was hesitant and unsure as to whether to push for more. He did though; he almost wish he had not as Yuuri recalled his nightmare in vivid detail, stone-faced and indifferent. Until he got to the part about Viktor taking his ring off. He choked a little at that part understandably. Viktor felt even more helpless listening to the recollections. Yuuri reassured him that he knew they were all lies but also confessed to being unsure of how to defeat his own thoughts. Viktor thought he would break into tears too, but enough had been shed already.

* * *

 ** _*THIS IS YOUR SMUT ALERT*_**

* * *

Viktor helped Yuuri back to the bed and lay him down, hovering over him. And he kissed him, because it was the only way he could express himself at the moment. The sorrow, the helplessness, the love he held for Yuuri was shown through the gentle kisses he laid on the chapped lips of the younger. Yuuri began to kiss back soon enough, his arms pulling Viktor closer by his neck, fingers lacing into soft silver strands. When Viktor began grinding his hips down Yuuri responded, feeling them both harden through their boxers. Viktor moved further down, sucking at that one spot on Yuuri's neck that always made him squirm in delight, grinding down harder. Yuuri focused on the heat rising in his body, on the scent and feel of Viktor, of real Viktor and his reality. He hummed softly in pleasure, urging Viktor to keep going, and Viktor did so, pulling away briefly to fling his own t-shirt off and returning to push Yuuri's sweatshirt up. He lapped and tugged at the hardened nubs, loving how Yuuri pushed into his touch more. Giving equal treatment to both nubs Viktor proceeded to kiss a line down his chest, along the barely defined abs. He stopped briefly at Yuuri's boxers but the younger's whine let him know to keep going. Tugging both their boxers off Viktor was face to face with Yuuri's hardened length. He blew a bit of cold air at its head and Yuuri shuddered. He always loved how sensitive Yuuri was to his touch. Viktor then went down on him, wasting no more time. Viktor loved how Yuuri chanted his name whenever they made love. He held Yuuri down by the hips, sucking him off, hollowing his cheeks, moving to the head; as long as Yuuri was whining in pleasure Viktor was doing well. He only stopped when Yuuri's shuddering indicated his end was near. It was too soon. Yuuri whined a bit, but nevertheless chucked the lube they had kept in the bedside drawer at Viktor's head, which he promptly caught with a gentle smirk. "Hurry~" "As you wish my love," Viktor replied. Yuuri was so pretty like this beneath him, red cheeks, a small line of drool out of one corner of his mouth, eyes slightly closed. Yuuri was his fallen angel, and he absolutely loved to ravish him until he could no longer remember anyone but Viktor.

With that Viktor got to work, lubing his fingers up and slowly inserting the first finger. Yuuri hummed in approval, barely flinching at the stretch. Viktor latched back onto Yuuri's length as he worked one finger into two, distracting his love from any pain that came with the preparation. When Viktor finally moved to pressing against Yuuri's prostate the younger responded with the angelic moans Viktor loved so much. He worked in a third finger, still pressing and rotating around that one spot until Yuuri began to shudder again. Then Viktor stopped again. Yuuri whined and Viktor almost laughed. He moved back up to kiss Yuuri again, entangling their ring hands together. He kept kissing Yuuri as Viktor began to push in, Yuuri's face scrunching ever so slightly. He could feel the pinch but Viktor's love filled eyes and gentle kisses were doing well to make the pain tolerable. Once seated all the way in Viktor gave a deep, shuddered sigh. It had been a while, and Yuuri was tight. He waited for his signal, letting Yuuri take his time to adjust, continuing to kiss the beautiful man below him. It took a few minutes but Yuuri began to runt his hips against Viktor and the elder took it as his signal. He started gentle, with shallow thrusts, never taking his eyes off of the Yuuri. He was just so beautiful and angelic in Viktor's eyes. Yuuri soon wrapped his legs around Viktor's hips, his heels pushing into his gluts, forcing the angle to change, for Viktor to go deeper. Viktor got the message and began to build speed, thrusting with more force. Still, he never took his eyes off Yuuri. Yuuri moaned louder, Viktor loved it. Yuuri asked Viktor to go harder, deeper, and Viktor complied with Yuuri's ever whim. He wanted Yuuri to be sure that he was not dreaming, that this was real and that they were making love, that Viktor loved him and would do anything he asked of him to keep him happy. As Viktor hit his prostate again Yuuri arched off the bed, clinging to Viktor's neck with his free arm. Viktor could feel the finger nails indenting into his back but it only added to the heat and carnal nature of their love. As Yuuri clung to him and called his name over and over again Viktor did his best to whisper sweet nothings into Yuuri's ears, telling him how much Yuuri meant to him, how good he felt, how he was Viktor's everything and only, his great love, his любимая. Yuuri teared at Viktor's reassurances, believing everything said, reassuring himself that he was loved and that he loved Viktor and that they could be together and happy. Yuuri reached his end first, coming untouched on his and Viktor's chests, crying Viktor's name. Viktor would still stare in awe whenever Yuuri reached orgasm; it was a face only he would see and he was selfish. No one would ever see Yuuri like this. Only he could, Viktor Nikiforov. Yuuri was his as much as he was Yuuri's, forever.

As Yuuri came down from his high he could feel how Viktor was still hard. Viktor sat up, pulling Yuuri with him, still seated in Yuuri's heat. He continued to thrust up into Yuuri, the younger shuddering and moaning as he was still sensitive from his release. He clung to Viktor, his fingers back into the silky silver strands as Viktor pressed kisses along Yuri's jawline, up to his forehead and hairline, down his nose, both cheeks, to his lips. Viktor grabbed Yuuri's length, stroking in time to his thrusts. With one final hard thrust again Yuuri's prostrate, Viktor came, filling him with his cum. Yuuri came not even a second later at the feeling of sticky warmth filling him and Viktor's stroking. When Yuuri came down from his second high and could breathe again, he was still being held by Viktor, pressed tightly against his chest as he whispered more endearments, reassuring Yuuri that he was going to stay. And Yuuri focused on those words, even as he was lifted into the bathroom and Viktor washed them both off in the shower. The feeling of Viktor's cum running out of his butt down his legs made him blush, but it only reaffirmed their love.

Yuuri turned to Viktor in the shower, looking to the elder.

"I'm sorry."  
"What ever for?" Viktor replied.  
"For making you worry all the time."  
Viktor stared before breaking out in a smile and pulling Yuuri into a hug under the warm stream of water. "How can I not worry for you though; you deserve so much better and yet your mind betrays you so. Do not apologize though; I love you for all you are, imperfections and all my Katsudon."  
"You love me."  
"Of course."  
"But I'm flawed"  
"So am I Yuuri"  
"I don't deserve you," Yuuri stated.  
"Then I don't deserve you either," Viktor replied. "You saved me Yuuri; I was so alone on the ice until you skated into my life. You inspired me to live again." Yuuri nodded. He too detected the anxiety that was already starting to creep back in.  
"I love you too Viktor. Just so you don't forget."  
"Of course Yuuri; I will say the same to you a thousand times if needed."

The water was soon turned off, Viktor had dressed them both again and they both made their way back to the bedroom. By now the sun was peeping through the curtains and neither felt tired enough to go back to sleep. So they cuddled together in silence for a bit longer watching the sunrise and talking about anything and everything they could think about. And the rings on their fingers seemed to glow a bit brighter with the reassurances and strengthening of their love.

* * *

When Yuri Plisetsky walked into the hotel lobby restaurant to grab some grub before they all had to leave for home, he immediately spotted Viktor and Yuuri in the back corner staring lovingly at each other as they enjoyed a quite conversation. They had their hands intertwined and each had a latte or some form of coffee in front of him. Yuri noted Yuuri's tired expression though, seeing straight through the smile plastered on his face. Yuri wanted to puke; their public affection was nauseating. And no, and most definitely was not jealous. He whirled around, lifting the cat-eared hood of his jacket over his head and set out to find Otabek.

He found Otabek at a table with Phichit and a few other junior skaters. He slid into the seat right next to Otabek, not even caring that Phichit and the juniors were freaking out and snapping photos and such. It was Phichit; he shipped anything and everything and everyone had given up long again in trying to stop him. Besides, the poor guy had come in 6th and no one was sure how he was still so happy. During the interviews he had mentioned something about an ice show? Whatever, Yuri definitely did not give a damn about Phichit. Otabek spared him a brief glance and smile before Yuri was bombarded with questions by the juniors about how he felt and what it was like to win the GPF in his senior debut and so on. Yuri entertained and answered with his somewhat haughty tone, bragging about his superiority, slightly trashing all the other competitors. Except Otabek. Otabek was cool.

As the breakfast chats wrapped up and they all had to head to the airport to catch their respective flights home, he rejoined Yakov and Lilia to catch their cab to the airport. Otabek did the same in finding his own entourage. As they parted way at the hotel entrance into different cabs, Yuri spared one last glance behind him to Otabek still talking to some fans. He caught the elder's eye; Otabek gave him a small smirk and a thumbs up, which Yuri returned. And as the cab door was shut and he stared out the window, he thought of Four Continents, where he would most definitely find Otabek again. Still, he wondered if he could see him again before then.

* * *

In a decent sized apartment in Moscow resided Georgi Popovich. He was slightly pissed off. This was supposed to be the year he represented his mother country. With Viktor gone he was sure of it. But that did not happen. He lived in Viktor's shadow for years, and when the silver-haired champion finally stepped aside, a sassy punk blonde fairy kicked him aside and took everything from him. A fifteen year old child, in his senior debut, won gold at the Grand Prix. And Georgi was forgotten, but not completely. There were several hundred articles and blogs and such scattered across the internet that mocked him. Mocked him, his hair, his performances, his outfits. Georgi felt much cheated, and slightly irritated as was, but the articles only added fuel and made the spark into a flame. He had to prove himself. He had to; he had come so far, too far to be left behind and forgotten.

* * *

*любимая (Beloved)

A/N: Hi readers. Author here. I would like to thank everyone for favorited, followed, and/or commented on this story so far. You put so much faith in me from the first chapter! Again, comments and messages and criticism are always welcome. You guys and your belief in me keep me going. I'll do my best!


	3. Chapter 3 - WINGS

A/N: SURPRISE! Two chapters in one day :3 Again thank you, dear readers, for taking the time to read this story. 3

If Katsuki Yuri were to be completely honest with himself, he has no idea why he ever suggested to Viktor that his exhibition skate be a pair skate. Of course Viktor was able to pull some strings and get the idea okay'd (bless the power of Viktor Nikiforov) and the two of them have been able to keep the entire things under wraps the weeks leading up to the performance. Still, the night before, as the practiced once more in an empty rink, Yuuri was terrified. Not because he though Viktor would drop him or because he himself would flub a move (though Yuuri was quite sure he would mess up), but rather just because he was skating the same ice as Viktor WITH Viktor. THE Viktor Nikiforov, who he had strived to be the better first half of his time on the ice. He had looked up to Viktor for so long, he still did. He almost did not believe that Viktor was HIS. And they were going to skate TOGETHER in front of the world. Sure most of the world already knew they were together, but what they were about to do, confirm the rumors and such, was going to trigger a firestorm. Viktor loved the idea of setting the world's press into a frenzy. _Stay Close to Me_ ; in a way he was still pleading to Viktor to stay with him forever, even though Yuuri knew he would.

If Viktor Nikiforov were to be completely honest with himself, he has never been happier than when Yuuri blurted out his idea of pair skating to his legendary free skate, the one from last year that got him his fifth straight gold medal. " _Stay Close to Me"_ ; he never could have anticipated his wish coming true. Only Christopher really knew of how lonely he felt skating. He had his glory and the medals and the adoration and admiration of the masses; he was a GOD of skating, but he was lonely. Then an angel was literally flung at him from heaven in the form of the drunken Japanese skater that placed 6th. Even then, when Yuuri was drying humping him while clinging to him and a bottle of champagne and begging Viktor to be his coach, Viktor thought he was the most beautiful thing he had seen in a long time. And when the video of Yuuri skating to his program went viral…he ran. He grabbed Makkachin, inexplicitly flipped off Yakov and flew to Japan. Viktor would have done it all over again given the chance; he got Yuuri and Yuuri was worth more than all his cold medals and trophies and titles. He would gladly never touch ice again if it meant Yuuri would keep skating and finding the joy in doing so. His aria became a duet, his empty life was full again, the ice no longer seemed so cold now that he shared it with Yuuri.

The first time Yuuri saw Viktor's performance he was in awe. But Viktor had not difficulties in aweing his followers, including Yuuri. When Viktor saw Yuuri perform it for him, and only him, for the first time since the viral video, they both broke down in tears. Yuuri cried because one, he did not f*** up in front of his idol and two, because he just performed a Viktor Nikiforov for FRICKEN VIKTOR NIKIFOROV, and Viktor cried because one, it was so beautiful and two, because it was Yuuri, and he was even more in love with his Katsudon now.

When Yuuri's costume for their pair skate first came in, he shoved it into Yuuri's arms and pushed him into the bathroom, practically commanding him to put it on that instant. He almost got a nosebleed when Yuuri finally stepped out, hair slicked back and all. He looked a lot like Viktor, but so unique and beautiful in his own way. During that time Viktor had slipped his own costume on, which is why Yuuri was staring at him too. Yuuri never thought he would see that costume on Viktor in person, or Viktor himself to that extent. If one had told Yuuri a few short months ago that he would be skating a pair skate with Viktor, Yuuri would have blushed and insisted that it could never happen and would then promptly run away and hide in his room plastered with Viktor posters. But it was happening. That same evening they made their way to the ice rink, and skated " _Stay Close to Me",_ side by side. It was not yet a pair skate at the time, but in skating it together they expressed more emotions for one another than they ever could with words. Months later, when Viktor lifts him up the first time, Yuuri could not feel happier. He was flying, gliding along with the man he loved, the man he knew loved him back. And they would be together, on ice and beyond. All was as it was meant to be.

* * *

Neither Yuuri nor Viktor flinch when opening heavy metal cords of _"Welcome to The Madness"_ blasts through the speakers for Yurio's exhibition skate. Neither did Yakov or Lilia or Mila, or Otabek. It was hilarious watching the audience's jaws drop though, seeing their precious "delicate" Russian fairy skate to intense heavy screamo music. As expected, Yuri is flawless. But he also sincerely looked as if he were having the time of his life, his green eyes gleaming and a sharp smirk plastered on his face. Yes, this was much more Yuri-esque than anything Viktor or Lilia could ever come up with for the younger Russian. Viktor notes how tense Yuuri is as they watch Yurio skate; even now, when there were no points and no judges, it was a competition. Viktor just squeezes Yuuri's hand in reassurance; he would be fine. They would be fine. As he exits the ice, he nods at the two of them before shoving his earbuds and walking away to join Yakov and Lilia. Kissing Yuuri's ring one last time, Viktor leads him to the ice and lets him glide go. Viktor himself wore one of his signature trench coats to hide his own costume. They were going to shock the world. They both have done so as individuals, and they were about to do it together. He would join his Yuuri soon enough, but for now he just watched as the opening notes of a familiar aria rang through the rink. Blue really did suit Yuuri best.

The pair skate goes off without a hitch.

The screams as Viktor glided onto the ice accompanied by the female voice should have been defining. Various members in the audience and around the world watching through live-stream looked as if they were about to faint. If one listened carefully enough one could hear Phichit screaming about how he shipped it all along. Yurio looked pissed and ready to throw a tantrum and as intimidating as one could in a cat-eared hoodie. Otabek just patted him on the back, trying to calm Yuri down while having an unreadable expression on his own face. But neither Yuuri nor Viktor paid attention to any of the events and noises around them. All the heard was the beautiful melody of the duet and all they saw were each other, dressed marvelously and glowing in the spotlight. They skate with their eyes only on each other. Viktor sneaks a kiss or two into the routine and Yuuri manages not to melt into a mess when they happen. They end hand in hand, to the deafening cheers and screams of the crowd, flowers being chucked everywhere, enough tears being shed to flood the place and Yurio grudgingly clapping. Viktor could not be more proud of how far they had come. Even if he never made the podium again, he was satisfied. He had a prosperous career. Whether meeting Yuuri ended one era or began another he cared not for. Yuuri was his new everything. Besides, there was a wedding that still needed to happen. He had to ensure Yuuri a gold medal. Then he'd sweep him off the podium and propose properly, in front of all the world. The whole world was never going to forget who Viktor Nikiforov belonged to now. Yuuri's only thoughts were those of relief; he had not messed up after all.

Later that evening Viktor proposed that Yuuri move to St. Petersburg with him. As Yuuri said yes, in another part of the hotel Yuri suddenly felt a shiver through his spine and Yakov felt his stomach tighten for some reason. Coach and student had not noticed that their next training session in Russia would have a plus two instead of just Viktor. The next morning Viktor casually broke the news at the end of breakfast before promptly grabbing Yuuri and walking out the hotel door and into a cab headed to the airport; they were SO not sticking around for everyone's reactions. Mila cheered, Lilia's eyebrows twitched, Yakov looked as if he were about to suffer a stroke, and Yurio was just screaming as he hid his head into the table cloth to muffle the noise. Otabek was again next to the blonde to pat him on the back. Otabek was a great "friend". It took a couple weeks, and Viktor had to return to Russia without Yuuri, but they video chatted each other on Skype every night until Yuuri was ready to join him. And on a cold Russian morning as Viktor was talking with Yurio on a bridge, Makkachin came running towards the two Russians barking wildly causes them to turn towards the dog, followed closely by a figure in a winter coat with a backpack full of his few belongings strapped to his back. Viktor immediately noted how Yuuri's hair had gotten longer actually; none of them had cut their hair since the Grand Prix. Viktor liked the longer hair though. As Yuuri reached the two and flung his way into Viktor's arms as he often did after his skates, Yuri almost puked over the side of the bridge. Yuri looked dead, as it finally sunk in that he would probably have to deal with the lovebirds EVERY FRICKEN DAY for the next few months. He was definitely not looking forward to group training. It was going to be a mess; he'd rather deal with Lilia's ballet lessons for the rest of his life. Okay, maybe it was not that bad, but still, having to deal with Viktor and Yuuri's flittering, plus Mila's shipping, plus Georgi, plus Yakov's anger issues, plus ballet lessons, equated to some deep pit of hell for Yurio. Plus puberty; that sucked too. He wondered if he Otabek was serious when he invited Yuri to visit him sometime as the parted ways after the exhibition skate. He sincerely hoped the Kazakhstani was serious. He needed to Skype him. Tonight. Maybe sooner, sooner as in the moment he got back home and opened his laptop.

* * *

As Yuuri unpacked and wandered around Viktor's rather large flat, he stumbled upon the room of his childhood dreams. Yuuri stood in the middle of the room, looking around in awe. The entire room was plastered with news articles and framed certificates and photos. All of Viktor's medals from throughout his career were a glass display, arranged neatly by year, including his 5 GPF gold medals. There were so many awards; so many of Viktor Nikiforov's awards. The room was a testimony to his achievements, how far he had come, how hard he has worked, a testament to his studded career. Yuuri stared at his own reflection in the glass; he knew that he would never be like Viktor. But he was okay with it, because he was so much happier being WITH Viktor. The gold ring on his right hand made up for all the gold medals he never won. As for his own recent silver medal, it sat in their shared bedroom. Viktor did not like the idea of them adding Yuuri's medal to the same room; he felt it would be overshadowed too easy. So his silver medal sat, framed in their bedroom above the television. For now, that was the perfect spot for it.

"YUURI!"

Yuuri turned to see Viktor leaning against the door frame with several rolls of paper in his arms. Yuuri did not even need to have them unrolled to know what they were. Viktor picked up one and unrolled one; it was teen Viktor with long hair. "Yuuri you never told me you had these!" Viktor exclaimed. Yuuri wanted to die, right then and there in the room, surrounded by his idol's many awards. "We MUST pin these all up in the studio!" Oh yes, Yuuri was definitely fine if he was stuck down dead at that moment. When Yuuri had arrived at Viktor's home there was a mutual silent agreement that they would share a bedroom. Thus one of the spare bedrooms was converted into a studio for Yuuri mostly, to stretch and practice his ballet in and such. But at the moment he wonders why he had packed all his Viktor posters with him.

 _"WHAT WAS I THINKING!?_ _馬鹿_ _!"_ Yuuri cursed to himself. He did not even try to protest; he knew Viktor would not actually do it…right? RIGHT?!

When he woke up the next morning and entered his training room, Yuuri found that he was partially correct only. SOME of the less embarrassing posters of Viktor were up on one wall, along with many more of himself, and several dozen photos of him and Viktor and ones they shared with fellow skaters. It covered the entire wall, but it did not seem excessive at all. Yuuri liked it, being surrounded my his rivals and supporters, knowing who was behind him, who was there to push him, who he had to beat. Still, he thought bringing the posters with him to Russia was a bad idea. Or maybe it wasn't. If he had left them with his parents, the triplets may have very found them soon and posted photos all over the web; that was definitely a much worse scenario the more Yuuri thought of it.

Viktor was more than ecstatic to have Yuuri with him in Russia. To be honest, he was only returning to the ice to put some more pressure on Yuuri and Yurio, and the other competitors too. He was far from concerned from winning gold again; he had enough gold medals. Besides, he probably could not even do it if he tried. Viktor was a legend, but he was nearing his 30s, the age of retirement. He had also taken a year-long break, and there was so much new talent. Yuri was amazing without a doubt, winning gold in his senior debut. Viktor was very, very impressed with the new face of the Russian skating scene. Yuri was a very worthy competitor and eventual successor. Yuuri too, had grown so much and come so far. Viktor had watched Yuuri grow under his coaching, and he could not be prouder at the moment. Maybe Viktor was a bit sad Yuuri had not won gold, but Yuri definitely deserved his win. Maybe now Yuuri would have more confidence and motivation in winning gold. Yuuri would win gold; it was just a matter of when. Viktor already decided that first and foremost he was Yuuri's unofficial coach. It was where he was happiest.

* * *

Yuri ended the Skype call with Otabek, and immediately opened a new tab to search for the next flight out of Russia to Almaty International Airport. Otabek had been serious; Yuri was not going to take any risks or waste any more time. He was ditching the train before it went completely off the rails. He packed a backpack and fled as soon as Lilia was asleep.

The next morning when Yakov came in screaming in Russian followed by a Lilia who looked ready to murder, Viktor was the only one brave enough to try and calm the aging coach down. Yuri had left a note simply stating that he would be training in Kazakhstan for the next month or so. Yakov was coherent only because he already went through this kind of sh*t a year earlier when Viktor bailed. Eventually Yakov did calm done, but was extra salty and harsh on the skaters that day. When they were finally allowed to leave for the day, Yuuri had to drag Viktor out with the elder leaning heavily on him since Viktor was so worn out. Yuuri secretly called Yuri on Skype later at night to scold him, but also to give him kudos for having the foresight to run from the disaster they all saw coming. He waved bye to Otabek and Yuri before turning off his laptop and jumping into bed next to Viktor. Viktor was already passed out cold. Yuuri followed soon after. They both needed their strength for another miserable day tomorrow.

* * *

Otabek said nothing as he met Yurio at the airport. Yurio shoved a bag of pirozhki into Otabek's hand and thanked the elder for letting him seek refuge with him. Otabek nods in acknowledgement. He notes Yuuri's green eyes had softened, though they were still the eyes a soldier. Yuri was so young, had lost so much, but he was determined to do his best always, to never disappoint. He was a true warrior.

* * *

A lone figure dressed in black, wearing a ridiculous amount of eye make-up, looks on from the shadows at the back of the bleachers as the Russian skaters + Yuuri practiced to the sound of Yakov's barking. It focused in on Yuuri through the binoculars. _"I shall not be forgotten…I shall correct the wrongs…"_ With its observations complete, the figure snuck back out of the rink, a malicious plan of vengeance solidifying in its mind.

* * *

*馬鹿 (Idiot)

A/N: Hi guys! Author again! So I will try updating this story as much as I can. But mu winter break ends soon so I might be less able to update once I start school again. SORRY! FORGIVE AUTHOR-NIM /3  
As always, comments, reviews, and criticism are always welcome. Improvement comes when I start making new mistakes


	4. Chapter 4 - Romance & Havoc in Ostrava

A/N: Hi Readers. Author here; first of all, a great Happy New Year to all; 2016 might have sucked but 1) it's over now and 2) we had this fandom, so there was at least that bright spot. As of the day this chapter goes up (1/2/17), I will be returning to school tomorrow, so I apologize if my postings become more erratic. I will do my best to try and create a sort of schedule for when I post. Anyways, thanks for being here and on to the story!

There was still no one after Anya for Georgi Popovich. He had gone on a few casual dates with other people and had hung out with his friends and all, but he still pinned over Anya. He really did love her, but failed to win her back. His Grand Prix performance shared in his despair. He was functioning without her now, focusing on practicing for the next competition. He left his heart on the ice, forgetting everything as he jumped and spun and glided until he had carved his signature into the ice. And then he would do it again the next day, and the next. He hid behind his eye make-up gimmick, to try and hide the pain he still felt from his break-up. Georgi was sure there would be another, and he would find happiness. But that person had not come yet, and so he continued to despair in private and focus that hurt into his skating. He was up against not only Viktor how; there was the punk kid who thought he was better than everyone just because Yuri landed a Quadruple Salchow at age twelve. Brat. Georgi respected Yuri though, for Yuri was the next generation and he would do well in representing their mother country. Georgi was already getting old, as was Viktor. Viktor, only a day older, overshadowed him in every way. He added that disdain as fuel to the fire; he would not be forgotten. Not anymore. Georgi was going to prove himself to a world where he took the backseat. He was going to make it happen, one way or another. His heartbreak would not be his downfall.

* * *

Though it was a well-known fact Viktor could sleep through anything (including earthquakes, tsunamis, tornados, or all of the above happening simultaneously), Viktor had trained himself to be able to wake up at the slightest signs of distress from Yuuri when the slept together. Yuuri had a tendency to kick off the sheets, or even worse kick himself or Viktor off the bed depending on how bad his nightmares got. So for both their sakes Viktor just learned to tune himself in to these sorts of things. Fortunately tonight was peaceful, or maybe they were both just burned out from the couple rounds they sneaked in before bed. Either way, happy Yuuri meant happy Viktor.

They rarely were ever apart now, but it still had to happen occasionally. Yuuri had to leave him behind to return to compete in the Japanese Nationals, and Viktor had to stay for the Russian Nationals. They both made the podium, and the news outlets went into an utter flurry at the return of Viktor Nikiforov; Viktor let them, because all he cared about really was Yuuri's new gold medal that was added next to the silver from the Grand Prix. Viktor had gotten gold too, much to Yuri's distain; Yuri had clutched his bronze medal and screamed at Viktor that he would not it happen again. Viktor replied that he would be expecting his imminent defeat soon as well. Then Mila and Georgi, with silver, helped usher the younger back to their group with Yakov and Lilia. Viktor and Yuuri were now in Ostrava for the European Championships to see as to whether Yuri would make good on his threats.

They had arrived in the Czech Republic a day earlier than needed so they could settle in and do some sightseeing as well. Makkachin was sent to stay with one of Viktor's friends and unfortunately could not join the two of them. Arriving in the early hours the previous day, they spent the whole day exploring the wonders of the city. They took a tour of the New City Hall and wandered for hours through the Zither Museum and Ostrava City Museum and the Lutheran Church of Christ. Neither spoke the local dialect very well but they made due and enjoyed their time thoroughly. Later Viktor and Yuuri had found a small café and grabbed a light meal before returning to the hotel and banging out a couple rounds. Besides, it wasn't like Yuuri needed his ability to skate the following day. It had been a quite night afterwards.

The following day after he and Yuuri both woke up naturally, they did a bit more sightseeing, now running into more skaters as they arrived from the airport. They met up with Yuri, and Otabek. Otabek was there to support his "friend", though he and Yuri were definitely more if the way they cuddled and held hands as they walked and how tightly he clung to Otabek was they rode away on his motorbike. Viktor had whistled after, screaming something presumably vulgar in Russian as Yuri instantly replied by flipping his head around and flipping Viktor off before he disappeared in the distance. It was joke of course…at least until March came; after March first, all bets were on. Viktor turned in early that night, cuddling with Yuuri as they watch some local soap opera on the hotel television. Viktor was fully aware that the other skaters were below getting wasted in the hotel lobby bar, and he would have joined them in his younger and lonelier days. But Viktor Nikiforov was no longer young or lonely.

* * *

As Viktor entered the event venue the next day with Yuuri following close behind as they tried to avoid the mobs of reporters and photographers, he felt a slightly off. Maybe it was because this was his first big international event in over a year. Maybe it was at the prospect that he was going to lose to Yurio. No…it could not be either of those. Something just did not feel right; something was going to happen but he could not quite place a finger on it. Either way, he had a short program to skate and he needed to focus. Viktor's costume consisted of a dark navy and maroon military type jacket, highlighted with silver lace and thread. His black pants were also highlighted with silver thread with two thin lines down the sides in maroon and navy. He looked as crisp and fabulous as ever, skating to " _Concierto de Aranjuez"*_. As they made their way through the backstage corridors there were many familiar faces: Christopher, Emil, Michele and Sara, and a few others. There were many newer skaters as well who came up to Viktor and Yuuri asking questions and for selfies and autographs and such, which the two were more than happy to provide. Yuuri was a bit red-faced during it all, not yet completely comfortable with the explosion of fame that surrounded him, first because of Viktor but equally because his huge comeback at the Grand Prix. But he welcomed it, happy for Viktor and happy to be an inspiration of the younger generation of skaters. After the blur of checking in and the fans Viktor was finally able to locate Yakov. Mila sprung up and crushed Viktor hard enough that he swore he heard his back break. Yuri and Georgi were not there, presumably mingling with other skaters and preparing for their own skates. Viktor sat and started to lace his boots over. Yakov went over the finer points in the program and Yuuri sat with Mila as they chatted about her own program in the following days and whatever else came to their minds. Yuri popped back in soon after, followed by Georgi. Yuri was dressed in a light blue cat suit, bedazzled with sparkles with sheer cutouts throughout, hair pinned up in a low ponytail. Georgi looked as if he raided Hot Topic.

Soon they made their way done to the ice. The world was watching them, both from the stands, from various news coverages and live streams; all of the skating world's eyes were on them now. Viktor was first among the three of them. Flawless; Viktor seemed as if he never stepped off the ice, that the routine he conceived in 3 days took months instead. His costume was of subtle colors but he shined under the spotlight as he danced across the glistening ice. Yuuri honestly could never grow tired of Viktor's routines. Sitting in the kiss and cry afterwards with Yuuri, he smiled as he took back his short program record. It lasted about half an hour before Yuri Plisetsky crushed it, throwing a biting smirk to Viktor from the kiss and cry. Viktor returned it with an equally biting smile. Competition was good and each had a mutual respect for one another. At the end of the day Yuri stood first, followed by Viktor. Georgi was sixth after blotching a quadruple toe loop and a shaky landing on one of this jump combos and was behind Michele, Christopher, and Arthur, the rising star from England. Nevertheless, the Russian Skaters had strong standings after the short programs. Exhausted they all made their way back to the hotel for a rest. As they stepped out of the cab, Viktor and Yuri were mobbed by reporters, asking about their relationship and their rivalry. Yuuri was bombarded with questions about his relation with Viktor, Georgi with his thoughts on his teammates and his own performance from earlier that day. In the sea of people Viktor lost touch with Yuuri as they were cornered off in different directions. Security was trying its best to push the reports away from the skaters but it was not progressing fast enough for Viktor's liking. He tried to call for Yuuri over the noise but he could barely hear even himself. And then the fans came and it all went to hell.

From Yuuri's perspective it seemed just as bad as the time he decided to go to a J-Pop concert with his sister back in the day. Just mobs and mobs of people pouring in and out from every direction and just screaming everywhere. Several of the more rabid fans were grabbing at his jacket. Yuuri did his best to push his way out of the crowd towards the street. He moved even quicker as he noticed a figure dressed in all black, a face mask covering the lower half of his face, moving steadily toward him. Yuuri turned around when he heard Viktor calling his name as the elder moved toward him through the crowd, surrounded by security to help clear a path. When Yuuri turned back to look for the masked figure, it was gone. All Yuuri could remember now were the intense, hate-filled blue eyes. _"Why was there so much hatred in those eyes…"_ Yuuri contemplated, only to be snapped by to reality by Viktor pulling him into his chest in the body guard shield before he gave the figure much thought. "You okay?" Viktor asked, clearly concerned and ever so slightly irritated with the mob. Their main concern now was just to get away and into the hotel and into their room. "Mhm…I'm fine Viktor. Really," Yuuri reassured. Viktor nodded, before he frowned slightly upon looking at Yuuri more closely.  
"Yuuri you're bleeding," Viktor said, pushing his hand to a small cut on Yuuri's jawline.  
"Oh…um…I did not even notice; must have gotten it while I was struggling…" Yuuri replied, trying to brush it off. He had not noticed, so it could not have been that bad. Viktor still frowned.  
"They really need to control the fans better; it was not even this bad when I returned to Russia."  
Hundreds of fans had poured in around the world to see the return of Viktor, flooding the city. They would just have to endure it, as there were only so many security that could keep the mobs at bay.  
"We'll just have to be sneakier when moving around now then," Viktor said. Yuuri nodded once in agreement.

* * *

Once they FINALLY escaped the mob and made it into their hotel room Viktor loosely grabbed Yuuri by the wrist and dragged him into the bathroom and sat him down and grabbed the first aid kit from their luggage. Yuuri flinched a bit from the antiseptic but it was otherwise painless. He actually found it adorable when Viktor fussed over him and always took care of him. Yuuri was rather clumsy unfortunately. He injured himself more off the ice than one it. Fortunately he still had not received any major injuries. He even escaped intact and without injury when he accidently fell off the 30ft ladder he was on while putting Christmas decorations up in the Hatsetsu Ice Castle. Viktor had caught him; somehow Viktor was always there exactly whenever Yuuri needed him. After both had showered (separately) and dressed for bed, they cuddled under the bed sheets, watching some recaps of the day's events. Yuuri reassured Viktor that he would win with his free program and Viktor reassured him that even if he lost to Yuri he would still be happy. Still, that was a few days away.

On another room Yakov stood in front of Yuri, pointing out all the small mistakes the blonde had made in his program that day. Yuri kept himself from cursing back by reflex but still rolled his eyes at his coach. He was 1) in first place thus far and 2) beaten old man Viktor's record yet again. He had put his money where his arrogant mouth was and proven himself yet again. He dominated the junior division and now he was going to wreck the seniors, including his idol and his piggy boyfriend. Once Yakov's lecture ended and Yuri had slammed the door as he exited with Lilia not far behind he plopped face first back onto the bed. Escaping the mob earlier was exhausting and extremely annoying. Yakov eventually was able to scare back all the reporters and drag him and Georgi into the hotel. Georgi was given a stern lecture as well earlier, but not as stern as the one Yakov had just given Yuri. Even Yuri still somewhat pitied his fellow countryman, ever so slightly. But Georgi was the most emotional and artistic of them, and the most intense looking on ice. It would not be completely right to compare him to Viktor or Yuri; the all had different strengths and weakness and varying style.

Yuri had no plans for the rest of the night, thoroughly unwilling to go back into public and deal with another mob. The first time he was mobbed in Barcelona was bad enough. Good thing Otabek had been there. Otabek…he had no reason but Yuri to have come to the European Championships. He should be training…yet he was here, for Yuri. Just like Yuuri was here for Viktor. Yuri screamed into the sheets. What was Otabek to him? Competitor? Companion? Friend? More, Otabek was more than a friend to him Yuri thought. Yuuri and Viktor and Mila and Georgi and the others were his friends in varying degrees but Otabek, "Beka" was more than just his friend. He knew not what to label him as, but whatever, those types of titles were overrated anyways. Yuri had more pressing things to worry about, namely the European Championship he had to snatch for himself.  
*BEEP*  
Yuri looked over to see that his phone had lit up with a message. It was from Otabek.  
Beka: Hey, I'm corner store. Want anything?  
Yuri thought for a moment. He didn't.  
Yuri: I want you-  
Yuri then promptly erased that.  
Yuri: No just get your ass back here and use the back entrance; the mob is still outside.  
Beka: K.  
With that Yuri stuck his phone on the bedside table and jammed the charger in. At least he had Beka.

* * *

Otabek dismounted the bike he had rented for his time in Ostrava. He had tried to keep pretty low-key about his presence at the championship, for both his sake and Yuri's. Yuri already had a lot on his plate as was, and he did not need a dating scandal as well. At least not yet; after March first that might change if Yuri was willing. As Otabek walked through the back entrance he passed someone smoking a cigarette while looking up to the top floors of the hotel. Upon spotting Otabek it soon moved and started walking in the other direction into the shadows. Otabek found it strange but did not think much more of it. Otabek himself was dressed in his leather jacket and jeans, but he had a baseball cap, fake glasses, and a mask and had his hood up to further hide his identity. He was there for Yuri first and foremost. Entering his shared room with Yuri he set his purchases on the counter by the door. Yuri was crossed legged on the bed, scrolling through his phone. He was in a tiger print onesie, which Otabek found absolutely adorable. But he would never say it aloud, less Yuri murder him on the spot. Yuri grunted in recognition at Otabek's entrance, asking him if he ran into any trouble.

After a quick shower, Otabek slipped into bed next to Yuri in a faded t-shirt and sweats. They were dating. Yuri would never say it aloud and Otabek would never ask him to, but they fit all the criteria of a couple. They would never be as explicit as Yuuri and Viktor, but Otabek and Yuri found it better that the media did not know. They kept their privacy more that way. They slept in the same bed, ever since Yuri sneak into Otabek's bed his first day in Kazakhstan, complaining that he couldn't sleep. Yuri the not even go to his guest room first the following night. The night after that, Otabek left the door open and Yuri entered without even knocking. They had grown closer since Barcelona; maybe Otabek will never get Yuri to admit his feelings but he knew the younger felt the same. Their relationship was built on a lot of silent communication and presumed mind reading, and Otabek would not have it any other way. They talked a bit about Yakov and Yuri's performance and such until Yuri started to drift off and Otabek turned off the lights. They faced opposite sides of the bed but by morning Yuri would always end up snuggled against Otabek. No explanation was ever given or needed.

* * *

A lone figure stared up at the windows of the hotel, particularly at the one housing Kasuki Yuri and Viktor Nikiforov. It had failed to get to Yuuri today, but no matter. It had not even planned to after Yuuri today as Yuuri was not competing; he was a mere spectator. Yuuri would go down at Four Continents. The figure swore to it, swiping through the photos on his phone. Hundreds of photos of Viktor, Georgi, Yuri, Mila, and Yuuri. The end was coming for Yuuri; the figure would only ensure that fate would strike down its target. And then, all would be as it should be. Viktor would be free again.

* "Concierto de Aranjuez" by Joaquin Rodrigo is the short program of the world famous males single Russian skater Evgeni Plushenko from his 2009-2010 season; he is skater Viktor Nikiforov is based off of.

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading! Again, comments and reviews and PMs are always welcome.


	5. Chapter 5 - Surprises,Endings & the Next

A/N: Hi guys! Author here! So I'm back in school. Fortunately I'm a senior, so only ONE MORE SEMESTER! To all you guys in school and at work and such, keep up the good work and thanks for taking the time to read my fanfics! /MWAH 3/  
I will try to upload at least one chapter a week. I will do two if I can, depending on how busy I am.  
So…enjoy!

* * *

Katsuki Yuuri is NOT a morning person. He had been skating competitively for several years, and was used to having to wake before the sun was in the sky to attend practice and for competitions, but that did not mean he enjoyed rolling out of the comfort of his bed in the freezing cold to go to an even colder place. But alas, he was a professional world-famous figure skater and sacrifices had to be made. However, he was not competing and therefore he should have no reason to have to wake up at 4:30 in the morning, if it were not for Viktor. Yuuri himself had continued to practice in a smaller rink in a town a couple miles outside of Ostrava, for he had to compete at Four Continents not that long after the European Championships concluded. But he did not get up so early for that; he always practiced in the afternoon and early evening. He endured the early mornings for the sake of watching his fiancé practice. Viktor needed to practice in the wee hours, and as a good partner and observer Yuuri would follow, usually with a large coffee in hand. It was worth it though, as they usually arrived earlier than the other competitors so Viktor could have the ice to himself. Yuuri still could not get over how beautiful and graceful Viktor was on ice. Yuri and Georgi and the others would join soon after as the sun rose and the rink came to life with coaches and competitors and observers and the media. Still, Yuuri felt so lucky to have Viktor skating only for his eyes in the early hours beneath the dimmed ceiling lights and the moonlight still streaming in from the arena windows.

Viktor Nikiforov for used to waking up at 3 in the morning for practices now. He had been skating for over a decade, and his body had adjusted to the rigorous skating schedules. He did not even set alarms anymore, though Yuuri insisted, just in case. Actually Yuuri tended to set at least 3 or 4 alarms. Yuuri still had a hard time getting out of bed in the morning, and Viktor was starting to pick up his beloved's habits. He always found it adorable how Yuuri would blindly swipe his phone to shut off the alarm and then blindly reach for his glasses. The messy hair, the slightly baggy eyes, the ruffled clothes; Viktor found tired, barely-awake Yuuri adorable. Viktor no longer wanted to get out of bed either. In his earlier days, it was easier. He woke up alone most of the time and therefore had no reason to stay in bed. That or he would wake up with some random person on the other side of the bed, and he needed to escape to avoid the awkward conversation that would result from his hook-ups. But since he met Yuuri, all he has ever wanted to do was stay in bed and cuddle with Yuuri and fall back asleep with the younger in his arms. But he could not do that; Yakov and Yuri would flay him alive for it, and he had a competition to win. Yuri, as good as he was, still had a long way to go and Viktor was going to beat him, badly, and put the punk in line. Viktor saw it as a service, for then maybe Yuri would be a bit more humble. At this point in his career Viktor was not skating for the awards. He skated to inspire, to push others to work harder to try and defeat him. For now, it was only Yuri, but come Worlds, he had Yuuri as well. He expected to be defeated at Worlds. Viktor had planned to retire after the 2015 Grand Prix series whether Yuuri had come along or not; he only returned this one last season to push Yuuri to his fullest potential. Silently in his mind, he would retire after all 3 of his records have been replaced. So far, his SP and FP scores have been defeated. Now there only stood his long-standing combined total world record. It was a tall order, but Viktor fully expected it to be shot down this season. Whether it was Yuri or Yuuri or one of their other fellow skaters, Viktor was so sure his legendary career was going to draw to a close very soon. But for now, he had a free skate program to slay.

* * *

Otabek opened his eyes at the sound of his alarm. The first thing he registered with the arm slung across his face and the loud snores of his bedmate. Yuri was a deep sleeper and he tended to move a lot in his sleep. He was also a hugger, not that Otabek was complaining. This time, Yuri had one arm slung across Otabek's face, the other squished between their chests, one leg slung across Otabek's torso and the other up behind his buttock as if he were going spirals in his sleep. Yes, Yuri was a very messy sleeper; honestly he was even worse than Yuuri. There were stories told by the other Russian skaters of how Yuri used to cling to his bed in the mornings and refuse to let go of the sheets, then the carpet, then the door as he was dragged to morning practice. It was not as bad anymore, but Yuri himself continued to complain about practice and make it very clear that he was not a morning person. So Otabek made it his duty to ease the process up after they started to share a bed.

Otabek detangled himself from Yuri and made his way to the bathroom with his outfit for the day. After showering and getting dressed, he turned on a couple lights as he exited the bathroom. He turned on the hotel coffee machine. He laid out Yuri's free program costume and cleaned up the remaining stuff from throughout the room, packing it back into their respective bags. After the coffee was ready, he added 3 sugars and a single packet of creamer. Then he mentally prepared himself, and shook the still dead-plank asleep Yuri. It took about 3 minutes of coaxing but the younger eventually got out of bed and downed his coffee. He would need more later but it would suffice for now. Yuri took his shower and dressed in his costume. Otabek stuck his fake glasses and baseball cap back on as they made their way down to the lobby. Fortunately there were not that many people up at that hour aside from other competitors. Hailing a taxi, they made their way to the arena.

It was around 5:45 AM when Yuri finally made it onto the ice. Viktor was already there, as well as Yuri. Christopher, Emil, Georgi, and Michele were all also there. They were all practicing intensely, giving only minimal greetings to Yuri. It was a tough competition and all their passion and focus had to be directed to perfecting the last bits of their respective programs. There were a few spectators and family and friends along with the coaches as well, but the massive rink was still overwhelmingly empty. It was also very quiet, the only sounds being sounds of blades against ice, grunts, some advice from the coaches to the competitors, and occasional laughter. Even after Yakov arrived he said ever little, as he too knew not to impress too much on his students at this point. They each knew what they had to do. The hours flew quickly, the arena soon filled and the competitors were soon ushered off the heavily indented ice so the Zamboni could smooth it back down in preparation for the free programs. Yuri sat with Yakov and Lilia, earbuds plugged in and blasting death metal. He did his stretches, checked his skates, checked his hair and make-up, checked his costume, spoke a bit with Viktor and Georgi, glared at Yuuri from a distance, and just mentally readied himself. He had to win. He was going to win. Viktor was past his prime without a doubt, but this was his rise. He was skating to Rossini's _"William Tell Overture"_ * this season. The slow rise, the eventual crescendo had a striking parallel to his internal thoughts as he skated. He fed off his internal thoughts, fueling his rage to spin faster, jump higher, to win. He had three quads planned. He was making it four. Yakov would weakly get angry at him after but they both knew it was Viktor he was up against, so it had to be four. Yuri knew he would lose his flexibility soon, and he was going to make the most of it. He was currently in first, so he would be going last. _"Good",_ Yuri thought. It would present him more time to scope out his competition. The last time he was in this position, he had watched Yuuri's flawless free program at the Grand Prix, and Viktor had begged him to beat Yuuri so that he would keep going. He did, though in Yuri's mind the margin of victory was too small for his liking. This time is was Viktor, and it would be harder, but it had to be done. _"I'm coming for you old man. I will surpass you Viktor, and I will defeat you even in legend."_ As Yuri looked into the stands he saw who he initially thought to be Otabek, since the man had an undercut of similar style but Yuri noticed the clothing differences. Otabek was found backstage with Viktor and would be watching from rink-side this time. It was riskier, for he might more easily be recognized but he wanted to see Yuri's rise first-hand. Who was Yuri to complain?

* * *

As Yuuri made his way back from rink-side to the private room that was reserved for the Russian skaters, he noticed someone else leaving the room. From a distance Yuuri thought it to be Otabek, but as soon as the figure turned around, Yuuri recognized him immediately.  
"JJ?!"  
"oh HI YUURI~~~," JJ replied, waving as Yuuri walked up to meet him. They shook hands, though Yuuri thought the GP bronze medalist looked to be up to something. Before Yuuri could asked what he was doing here, JJ answered for him. "I thought I would take a break from practice and come watch in person! I only flew in this morning!" JJ laughed, somewhat awkwardly, scratching the back of his head with a hand.  
Yuuri noticed that he looked…different. He had what looked to be face paint and eyeliner around his eyes, which his pointed out. "Oh THIS," JJ said, rubbing at his eyes. "I may or may not have rushed here as soon as practice ended yesterday. We were testing out new make-up techniques!"  
Yuuri found this odd, but said nothing. " _Why was he in the Russian team room? Was he looking for Viktor or something?"_ Yuuri thought. But he let it go. They made small talk for a few more minutes, bantering about Four Continents before JJ said he was going to try and find Emil. Yuuri pointed him in the right direction and they parted ways and Yuuri went inside the Russian team room. There was no one else in there right now, as they were all at rink-side getting ready for the free programs. Yuuri made his way over to find Viktor's bag, which was open, but given how forgetful Viktor was Yuuri was not that surprised. What was off though was when Yuuri took out Viktor's skates to examine them. A while back Yakov had off-handedly mentioned how Viktor all too often neglected to check his own skates. With an influx of new trainees plus Yurio, Yakov could not always be around to remind Viktor to do so. Thus, Yuuri took it upon himself to do it before every competition, just to be sure all was well with Viktor's gear. He often also mended Viktor's costumes when needed or did his make-up when Mila was not around. Viktor would return the same favors when Yuuri had to skate, though he was never as meticulous and he sometimes forgot. Nothing bad had happened to either from Viktor's neglect yet though, fortunately. But as Yuuri examined Viktor's skates he noticed that the blade was shaky. The screws were loose, which would not be uncommon if Yuuri had not just checked them 2 days prior and they were fine. It was an easy fix as Yuuri grabbed a screwdriver from the bag and made the quick fix. Checking the boot, all else seemed to be fine. Satisfied he returned the skates back into the bag and waited for Viktor and the others to return.

* * *

Yuri watched as Michele received his scores in the kiss and cry. Next would be Viktor. As things stood, Emil had made a comeback from 7th place and was now in first, though Yuri suspected favoritism from the home crowd. Or maybe not. After the short program, 3rd and 7th place were not even 15 points apart. They were all very, very good. Yuri was the outsider, as most of the other skaters had known each other and skated against each other for years. Michele received his scores, ranking in 3rd place behind Georgi. Georgi himself had made an impressive comeback, earning a score close Viktor's original short program record, but not quite. Georgi looked happy with himself though. Emil was now guaranteed a spot on the podium, much to the joy of the home crowd. Michele smiled for the cameras, but looked devastated as he knew Viktor and Yuri would easy kick him off the podium, less they blotch their entire programs. Georgi looked somewhat distant and disappointed as well, but he could settle for 4th. Yuri watched Viktor as he skated onto the ice, to the deafening cheers of the crowd. Now the real competition began; Yuri watched closely as his mentor landed all four quads cleanly, as he gracefully glided around the rink, an ethereal look upon his face, so expressive and passionate. Even at 28 he showed little sign of the weariness his body now bore. He was skating to "Kuda, kuda vï udalilis"**; Yuri recognized the Tchaikovsky piece, as the piece was in his mother language and he had seen many excerpts of the opera. It was beautiful, and emotional, as if this really was Viktor's last skate, his last song. Yuri suspected his mentor might retire after this season, though he somewhat hopes it's not true. Viktor was aging, and his records were being broken. Viktor had already earned his place in history. Still, it was hard for Yuri to watch as the great era of Viktor Nikiforov's domination was drawing to a close.

Viktor skated perfectly, as was expected. He scored high, though not as high as Yuuri's world record. Still Viktor was now in first. Yuuri was clapping from the sidelines, very proud looking. Yuri scowled; those two were gross. But he also noticed the figure from earlier, in the stands, watching Viktor intently. He could tell his expression as the man had a mask over his face. He snapped out of it as Yakov stood up and they made their way to the ice. Taking off his skate guards Yuri slipped his way to the center of the now heavily scorched ice. He could not hear the cheers of the crowd, or Yuuri and Viktor wishing him luck, or see Otabek's thumbs up or the dozens of signs and Russian flags. He imagined his grandfather at home, watching. The world was anxious as to who would come on top. Yuri let out one final sigh, taking position as the first notes rang out. " _Now is the time to prove my worth, once and for all. Yakov. Lilia. Beka. Viktor. You just watch, and don't you dare look away."_

* * *

Georgi looked on as his co-patriots stood on the podium along with Emil. Georgi had failed to medal again; he felt shame, disappointment. Yet, he was used to being overshadowed. His face no longer betrayed his inner turmoils. So just stood, by Yuuri and Yakov and Lilia, and clapped. That was all he could do now. Clap.

* * *

Viktor looked to his medal, the result of another flawless, fabulous skate. It would be added to the wall, just another medal to the wall, not any more noticeable or notable. He thought of Yuuri and Four Continents. It was not far away now. They would all collide at Worlds. He, Yuri, and Yurio.

Yuri did exceptionally well. He was flawless. But there no time to celebrate. There was still more to be done. As he twirled his medal on the taxi ride back to the hotel, his thought turned to Worlds. It would come in a blink. He knew Yuuri would excel at Four Continents. And then there was Otabek. The four of them would meet again, at Worlds.

As Yuri followed Yakov through the hotel lobby, he met the eyes of a hooded and masked figure with striking blue eyes. When he turned to take a second look, it had already disappeared out the door onto the street. Somehow, Yuri felt he had seen those eyes before.

* * *

*I know Yuri P. is based off Yulia Lipnitskaya but I really liked the 2010 Winter Olympics program of Stephane Lambiel. In my mind, Yurio is SUPER flexible and is a really great jumper but not as great as Viktor, but Yurio is VERY good with his spins and spirals. Like the intense speed of Lambiel's combination spin at the end of his Olympic performance: DAMN BOI. As the music becomes so aggressive and I totally can see it fit Yuri. Mostly, I like the spins from the program. Just add more jumps and a couple more spirals and I made it a Yuri program in my mind.

** "Lensky's Aria" from Tchaikovsky's Eugene Onegin; it's really emotional and I think it is fitting as Viktor's "goodbye" song per say. Keep in mind Viktor is really sure this is his last season before he retires, for reals.

A/N: Yes, I purposely did not state who won gold and who won silver. I left it ambiguous so that you, the reader, could decide for yourself who should have won, but also because I'm trying to make the point that it does not matter ultimately. Yuri and Viktor are both extremely talented, but just in different areas perhaps. Either way, they both go to Worlds, so stick around because next we are heading off to Four Continents for Yuuri and Otabek's skates! WOOT!  
I also gave love to Emil, because the teddy bear deserves some appreciation :3.


	6. Chapter 6 – Alcohol and Other Evils

A/N: This is a smut chapter. :^)

When Yuuri gets drunk, his "Eros" comes through. The last time he had REALLY gotten drunk had been in Sochi, over a year ago. And oh fricken boy has absolutely NO ONE let him live it down. Fortunately none of the photos or the video leaked; even Phichit had been thoughtful not to post any of the photos on his SNS account. Somehow he had gotten his hands on some of the photos from the event, even though he had not been there. Yuuri just accepted that his best friend and self-declared captain of the Vikturi ship had magical powers and could get his hands on anything and everything. Either way, neither Christopher nor Viktor had leaked anything. Yurio might have, though Yuri highly doubted the younger would leak them, since he had his ass handed to him by a dead-drunk Yuuri. Maybe some of the other attendees had done so, since within the first few weeks after the banquet there were a few articles and blurry photos. They were all gone now, probably thanks to the ISO (International Skating Organization) and a couple international governments. Regardless, Yuuri swore to never again drink in public. Even at his latest banquet, Yuuri hid away in the corner, far away from the champagne, making polite conversation with reporters and sponsors and whoever else came to congratulate him on his silver medal. Though, must of the attention was on Yurio, which was expected. The poor teen had been absolutely SWARMED the moment he entered the ballroom. Fortunately Otabek "rescued" him from the crowd at some point, and it seemed that their combined death glares chased away the remaining reporters. It was cute, watching the knight rescue his fairy. Back then the two were only vaguely familiar with each other, only having been introduced formally a few days prior. Though, Phichit had bet that they would be a couple, even back then. Poor Phichit; Yuuri knew what his friend must have felt, because he was dead last the year before. Though, he seemed perfectly fine has he hung mostly with Celestino as he sipped a couple champagnes. Actually, most people were drinking, except who Yurio, who was underage, and Yuuri, who was plagued by what he could not remember. Viktor though, was taking shots of vodka with Georgi, Mila, and Yakov. Mila had won her first gold that year, and Yakov was bragging of how TWO of his students had medaled that year. Sara had gotten bronze, lightly teasing her twin of how he failed to medal that year as well, but it was all in fun sport. Mickey was at the banquet only because Sara had dragged him there. Christopher kept teasing Yuuri, nudging him to drink some and reminding him that he still had the pole around somewhere. Yuuri would definitely have punched him in the face if they were not in public. But it was not Yuuri getting wasted this time. It was Viktor.

Whereas Yuuri was an erotic drunk, Viktor tended to spew about whatever nonsense was on his mind and then promptly stop mid-sentence, and pass out. At the GP banquet, he was babbling about how proud he was of Mila and haphazardly encouraging Georgi and telling Yakov that he was the best coach ever, or something like that. Drunk Viktor also defaults back to Russian, which was fine for his co-patriots but Yuuri had no idea what his fiancé was saying. Either way, at some point he dragged himself over to Yurio first, screaming about how happy he was that he had won gold and that he had grown so much and that he was such a proud father, all in Russian of course. Yurio cursed him out, in Russian, loudly. Yuuri knew, because Yurio cursed a lot and was admonished a lot. Yuuri just learned to recognize Russian curse words. When he started to tease Yurio about Otabek though, Yuri kicked him straight in the chest while flushing bright red. Lilia seemed to smirk from the corner, proud of how flexible her student was. An almost as drunk Christopher had joined at that point, trying to convince Viktor to dance with him, to get naked with him, and to try and help him persuade Yuuri to drink so they could have a threesome. At this point Yuuri dragged Viktor off of Christopher, excusing themselves, saying they would return to their room. Mila, JJ, and Christopher gave wolf whistles, Yuri screamed at JJ to f*ck off and at Viktor to DARE do anything nasty, and Yakov looked so done with his life. Phichit was taking photos. Yuuri KNEW a few would end up on SNS within the next hour. Well…at least no one was naked this time. They eventually made it back to their room, Viktor babbling about their wedding and how proud of Yuuri he was and how much he loved Yuuri and how awesome Yuuri was…until he passed out. Fortunately Yuuri had already gotten him onto the bed by then. Yuuri was about as red-faced from hearing his idol and new fiancé spewing such sugary endearments. Unlike Yuuri, Viktor did not get horny when drunk. And unlike Yuuri, when Viktor woke up the next day with a slight hangover, still in his wrinkled dress shirt and boxers with Yuuri snuggled up to his side, Viktor remembered the previous night perfectly.

Now, about a month later as he and the other skaters were at some random bar Emil dragged them all to, Viktor was buzzed. He was holding his conversation with Michele, which meant he was still functioning. Yuri had declined to follow, and was off somewhere with Otabek. Instagram placed them at a small café somewhere on the other side of the city. Yuuri was not with him either, having been dragged by Mila and Sara on some sort of shopping trip. The last message from Yuuri had been sent about half an hour ago, saying that they were all back at the hotel. Either way, everyone was exhausted from the European Championships, and were out partying or trying to relax. As expected, the Russians had dominated the men's and ladies' singles, and Yakov was scheduled to receive some other reward from the Federation to thank him for his "services to the country". Yakov was some sort of god-coach, having trained dozens of champions over his several decades as a coach. It did not come without a cost though; his only family were his students. They all knew he still kept photos of Lilia on his phone though, from their younger days. Either way, Viktor seemed to be the most sober. Emil was conscious but talking absolute nonsense, which Viktor just nodded to. He occasionally glanced over to Christopher who was getting frisky with his boyfriend on the dance floor, which to the blonde's disappointment, lacked a stripper pole. Michele was next to Viktor at bar, obsessively checking Sara's Snapchat and screaming in a drunken rage whenever another male aside from Yuuri appeared in the frame. And who knew where Georgi was at this point; he bailed within the first hour without telling anyone where he was going. _"What time is it..."_ Viktor thought, checking his phone yet again, which tells him he has been at the bar for 3 hours now. Which was enough for him honestly. There was no Yuuri to drag him back to the hotel his he got hammered. Waving good-bye to Emil and Mickey at the bar he grabbed his coat, bumping by some guy in a black hoodie as he exited, and hailed a taxi back to the hotel. Upon entering the lobby, he got a notification from… _"Otabek?"_ Viktor thought it was odd, as the two were only somewhat familiar with each other off the ice. Scanning the somewhat long message, he gets that Mila had called Yuri and lured the two to her room with the promise of alcohol and food. And apparently Yuuri and Sara were already there, and Yuuri was drunk. Not as bad as the Grand Prix mess, but pretty incoherent. Otabek just thought Viktor should know. Most of Viktor just wanted to laugh, but the part that groaned and face-palmed told him to go get the poor man. Heading to the room number messaged to him, he knocked. A stone faced Otabek opened the door. Entering the room, he examined the damage. Yuri was passed out. Mila was passed out and snoring loudly, and Sara and Yuuri was babbling about…unicorns? The TV was on, playing some American kids' movie Viktor did not recognize. He nodded to Otabek before collecting Yuuri in his arms as Sara screamed her drunken good-byes. Yuuri clung to Viktor, telling him how proud he was of the elder and how much he missed him and that they should f*ck. Viktor internally groaned but his façade stayed the same. He exited the room and made his way back to the elevator, to return to their own room.

 ** _THIS IS YOUR SMUT WARNING_**

The moment the door was shut, Viktor tackled Yuuri onto their bed, kissing him hard. The ENTIRE elevator ride Yuuri had been clinging to him and dry humping his leg. Viktor could clearly feel the hard-on and was developing one of his own. Drunk Yuuri = sexy horny Yuuri. Last time Yuuri was this drunk, it took all of Viktor's energy not to drag the Japanese man back to his room and ravish him the rest of the night; that would have been taking advantage of him, and Viktor would never do that. However, they were engaged now, and Yuuri was definitely fine with them f*cking. Hickies from their last session were still fading on the insides of Yuuri's thighs and Viktor swore his ass was still sore even though it had been a solid 2 weeks since he last let Yuuri top. That would probably change tonight though, now that he was done competing for a while.

As Yuuri flipped them over and they worked to strip each other of all their clothes, Yuuri whispered obscene things into Viktor's ear as he ground down, bathing in Viktor's groans as he grew harder. He whispered of how sexy Viktor had looked skating earlier that day, how proud he was of the medal that was safely packed away in their suitcase, how long he had waited to f*ck. When Yuuri whispered huskily of how he would let Viktor do whatever he wanted to him as a reward, the Russian utterly lost it. Viktor now appreciated the fact that both of Yuuri's costumes for the new season had turtlenecks, covering all of Yuuri's neck, and the hickies Viktor just loved to mark, his claim on the Japanese man. He added more now, flipping Yuuri back under him as he ground down hard, drawing loud moans from Yuuri as he sucked at his collarbone. Viktor used one arm to pin both of Yuuri's arms above his head by the wrists while another traveled down to Yuuri's leaking cock. Yuuri seemed to have heightened sensibility when drunk, which Viktor took full advantage now as he prepared Yuuri, biting and touching every part of the pale skin, leaving a trail of hickies and swollen nipples in his wake as he traveled down. Reaching for the lube they had left on the bedside he got his fingers covered while his mouth went down on Yuuri's leaking cock, causing the younger to arch up with another series of angelic moans. _"VIKTOR~~~!"_

Oh how much Viktor loved to hear Yuuri say his name, scream it whenever they made love. He loved it when Yuuri murmured it in the mornings as Viktor woke him up, or when Yuuri gasped it whenever Viktor hugged him from behind, and even now, as he screamed in drunken horny haze. Oh yes, Viktor loved to hear his name roll from Yuuri's mouth. As he sucked Yuuri off, he simultaneously worked his fingers into Yuuri's ass. Yuuri could barely distinguish when one finger turned to two, then three as they all pressed against his prostate and Viktor going down on him like a pro. It was so much pleasure, and his mind was so hazy from the beers. He loved it, he could barely hear himself scream. When sober he would TRY (and fail) to keep the noise down, but he had no restraints at that moment, moaning at Viktor's touches. With one Viktor holding his fingers down on that _one spot_ and deep-throating him, Yuuri came. And Viktor took a mental photo of Yuuri's blessed out expression as he swallowed everything, licking the rest of the head once he was done, causing Yuuri to shiver even more. Viktor ALMOST laughed as Yuuri was so out of it after his intense orgasm. Or so he thought, because in the next moment Yuuri had pounced on him, lube bottle in hand. _"My turn Vitya~~~"_

One minute later, Viktor was stretched, blushing, and begging Yuuri to put it in already. He loved everything about the man above him, even noting how his cum was leaking out onto his thighs, the love bites that littered his body, ranging from a few days old to that session. Yuuri was _HIS_ , and Viktor was _HIS_ , and neither would have it any other way. Their journey to getting together was not perfect fairytale but it had its princes and fairies and romance and chance encounters, and its happy ending. As Yuuri pushed in, Viktor felt his eyes get a bit misty. The stretch was painful but not unwelcome. Yuuri was still murmuring about how sexy Viktor was while waiting for his signal. As Viktor began rutting his hips, begging, Yuuri began to thrust. It was a slow and long build-up, and it was a bit messy as Yuuri kept almost but not quite hitting Viktor's prostate. But after Yuuri hit it at just the right angle, Viktor moaned and let a string of Russian curses, encouraging Yuuri to keep going, to go faster, harder. He loved feeling the Yuuri inside of him; he felt so good and Yuuri was enjoying himself too from the sound of the Japanese curses that fell from his lips. After Yuuri wrapped a hand around Viktor's leaking cock and began pumping to the beat of his thrust, Viktor knew he could not last long. He came, Yuuri following soon after, collapsing onto Viktor's chest, his flaccid cock still seated in Viktor, who could feel the cum dripping out on the his ass. After a while, Viktor was able to push himself up and carried with a half-conscious Yuuri with him into the shower, where Viktor promptly rimmed and Yuuri out before he cleaned them both off for real.

Viktor knew Yuuri would not remember in the morning, though he would probably piece it together rather quickly. Yuuri had passed out after their shower and Viktor had dressed them both and tugged Yuuri under the sheet with him, turning off the remaining lights. It had been a good night, but they had an early flight to catch tomorrow. Most of the luggage was packed already fortunately. Soon Viktor drifted off as well, his face nuzzled into the crock of Yuuri's neck as he spooned the younger.

The next morning he woke when Yuuri maneuvered over him to turn off their alarms. Then Yuuri groaned, the hangover and figurative pain in the ass hitting him. Viktor kept his eyes closed as Yuuri shifted in his arms. Yuuri was quite for about a minute, processing everything and stringing together the evidence. _"F***."_ Yuuri dropped a singular f-bomb in English. Viktor smirked.

* * *

In another room, Yuri woke up next to Otabek and felt like he needed to puke. He vaguely remembered a Mila and Yuuri and Sara and a few beers and some kid movie they had put on. But it was all muddled and his head was throbbing. Otabek was just in his boxers. And Yuri was naked. Wait what.

Otabek then awoke to Yuri screaming and cursing in Russian. He greeted Yuri with a sleepy smiled, and was replied with a string of questions and curses in Russian, which he only half-understood. "WHY DAFAQ AM I NAKED BEKA?! DID WE DO IT?! WTF HAPPENED LAST NIGHT? OMFG WTF IS-"  
"YURA calm down. You woke up and puked on yourself earlier this morning. I could not find your luggage in the dark so I just took off your dirty clothes. Nothing happened." Otabek replied, groaning a little because Yuri was loud and he was going deaf this early in the morning.  
Yuri was silent for a moment, still staring at Otabek, full frontal. Then he scrambled to his suitcase, grabbed some clothes and fled to the restroom. Otabek thought it was cute how embarrassed Yuri got.

After Yuri exited, fully dressed, his cheeks were still flushed. Neither spoke of the incident, for Yuri's sake. Yuri had murmured a quick apology in the elevator ride down, saying he felt bad for yelling at Otabek in the morning. Otabek replied that it was fine, he understood. Yuri blushed again but that was it. After Yuri and Otabek had exited the taxi to the airport and passed through security they sat together at Yuri's gate. Otabek's flight was later in the day, but he insisted to check-in with Yuri and see him off. They sat next to each other, Yuri playing a game on his phone, Otabek PM'ing his family, but they held hands over the armrest. As Yuri's boarding section was called, they both stood. Yuri would not look Otabek in the face but hugged him tightly, threatening him and telling him to call and message often, which Otabek readily agreed to do. Settling back into his seat, Yuri thought of his medal, of Worlds, of Otabek. He would see his him again soon.

* * *

Viktor and Yuuri boarded their flight to Japan. It was decided that they would train in Hasetsu so Yuuri could spend some time with his family. Viktor would follow him by default. Yakov only grunted, having at this point given up on trying to control Viktor. Yuri also only grunted, sneering that he could finally focus on his skating without having to see the two of them being lovey-dovey together every time they practiced. Viktor could detect the small amount of sadness though. Yuri had always admired Viktor, and now Yuuri too. Yuri made them promise to text him sometime, and threatened to disembowel Yuuri if he flunked Four Continents. Yuuri took it as a complement. As much as Yuri wanted the pig to win, there was also Otabek. He was not making any bets this time around. Besides, he had his own practice to worry about.

Still as he and Viktor passed through the terminal to their gate, Yuuri felt that they were being followed. Sure he was not paying attention too much to the people he passed but he felt that he had seen the same figure briskly pass him several times now. A glimpse of blue, a black hoodie, designer sunglasses; Yuuri convinced himself that he was just crazy though and said nothing to Viktor. Still, he felt a slight chill and looked over his shoulder a few more times than usual, though he never saw anything out of place. Viktor never took notice of Yuuri's odd behavior and soon they were both settled into their seats and in the air, off to Japan. It was Yuuri's turn now. Viktor was going to do all he could to set Yuuri on the podium with a gold medal. They had about two weeks to polish, then it was off to Korea. It would be enough, Viktor was sure. His Yuuri would do great, no matter what medal he got. And then they would all clash at Worlds, and then all bets were off and the real fun would begin.

* * *

Somewhere in Moscow a lone figure had a dozen or so tabs open across multiple laptops, all with news from the skating world. Back from Ostrava, the figure knew it had more work than ever to do now. Blue eyes gleaming, it booked a flight to Japan. It would have followed Yuuri to Japan immediately, if it had not had more pressing matters back in Moscow. But those problems were…eliminated now. Thus far, Yuuri was not found alone and therefore it could not make a move yet. But it knew that Yuuri would slip up soon enough, Yuuri would travel alone, without Viktor. Then, Yuuri would fall. And with Yuuri's fall, those who deserved it most would rise, and take their rightful places. And pathetic Katsuki Yuuri would return to the nothingness that he was. Yes, the figure could see the pieces falling into place now. After seeing the sadness of the European Championship, experiencing the crushing defeat, it was time to act. There was no more sympathy. All who stood in the way would fall. Even Viktor, if it really came to it. Even Viktor.

* * *

A/N: Pay close attention to details. I promise the identity of this figure will soon be revealed. And I will say, there is one and only one true villain to this story, so choose wisely. Well, I hope you are enjoying this so far. As usual, I will try to update when I can. Comments and reviews are appreciated.

Any suggestions or constructed criticism is welcome, so feel free to drop a comment or PM.


	7. Chapter 7 - Converging to Gangneung

A/N: Hi guys. Thanks for your support so far. This is a little filler for Otabek and Yuri, and some of the other characters as well. Sorry, no smut for these two; as things are right now, I can't age them up. Though, I won't rule out the possibility. Hope you enjoy!

When Yuri finally slugged off the plane it was already nighttime and the first thing he did was pull his phone out, turn off airplane mode and message Otabek. He had not been back to Sheremetyevo for a while. He usually flew right back to St. Petersburg, but Yakov decided Yuri needed a week off, so here he was in Moscow. Otabek did not reply right away, meaning he was probably still in the air. Thus Yuri made his way to the baggage claim for his tiger-stripe-patterned suitcase. He was utterly exhausted; sure he had his first class seat and had slept most of the flight but still, skating was strenuous, both mentally and physically. Yuri could not decide which hurt more. He had come so far already, having dominated the junior division, winning gold in his senior debut, medaling in Russian Nationals and the European Championship. He was hailed as the greatest skater of the new and upcoming generation, a prince of figures skating. Just like Viktor. Nikiforov; Yuri used to look up to him so much. He still did, though the man himself did fall short of many of his expectations. Maybe it was not explicitly his goal to wreck Viktor's records and surpass him, but it was a side product of Yuri's climb to the top. The ice rink is cold, hard, and unforgiving, but his life lay with his blades. Figure skating was all he had. It used to just be Grandpa. Yakov also acted as grandfather sometimes when he wasn't engaged in screaming at Yuri and the other students. Then there was Viktor, who sometimes acted like a father, other times like an older brother, and sometimes like a little brother due to his childish nature. Then there was Yuuko, and Mila to a lesser extent, who acted mother. Yuri never knew his real parents. He knew his father was a hockey player who died in a severe car accident after a drunk driver slammed into his car. He was blonde, strong-jawed, fierce; Yuri was not even 2 years old when he lost the father he remembers nothing about. Yuri knows he looks like him, based off the hockey posters at least. And then there was his mother. Yuri's memories of a beautiful dark haired woman with sparkling green eyes who always smelled like citrus, even in the dead of the Russian winter. They visited Grandpa a lot. All of Yuri's memories of her were muddled at best. There were albums of her and his father, of the three of them, with grandpa. Yuri did not remember any of it. One day she just disappeared. She went out for errands one spring day, and had not returned by the time Yuri had gone to bed. The next morning Nikolai was there. Yuri was four when his mother disappeared. Nikolai never told Yuri what happened to her; maybe Grandpa did not know, or maybe Yuri did not want to know. Regardless, Yuri continued to skate under Yakov. Life went on, though that year he felt a little more empty. Viktor was already well-established as Russia's rising prized champion by then. Yuri remembered his first Junior Grand Prix, a mere 2 years ago; his mother was not there. He won gold. And verbally dedicated it to Yakov and his grandfather. A small part of his mind dedicated it to his mother.

"Yurochka," a gruff voice called from behind.

Yuri turned around, and there was Nikolai. He was dressed in a leather jacket and turtleneck and looking a bit tired by happy to see his grandson. Yuri ran to him, slamming into him but not jumping on him this time around. He remembered the bad back this time. Though Yuri spent more time in St. Petersburg and saw his grandfather less, his home still lie with homemade Pirozhkis and the musty scent of the apartment. After Yuri had won his first junior Grand Prix, the prize money was sent to Nikolai and he moved out of his small village into a Moscow apartment near the heart of the city, for Yuri's sake more than his own, as it made it easier for his grandson to visit. Still, with competitions and practice, visits were far between and not nearly long enough it time. Nikolai's back prevented him from following Yuri around the world, or he most certainly would have tried to. Still, Nikolai watch, and continued to tell Yuri how proud he was of him, how far he had come, how much he had grown. So now as the two of them ate Katsudon Pirozhkis in front of the TV, Yuri never felt more at home. Nikolai was all the blood family he had left. Well, Yuri knew he had other distant relatives whom he had never met and had no intention to meet. This was home. This was his family. And for now, for that week, that was enough.

Later that night Yuri checked his phone again. There was still no reply from Otabek. Yuri scoffed a little. His flight would have landed already. Yuri fired off one last message saying that he was going to sleep. In reality he lay in bed for a couple more hours wide awake. It was one of those nights where he just stared at the ceiling and contemplated the meanings of life and this brain forced all sorts of bad and embarrassing moments back to the surface. He hated his brain for that; he'd curse it out if he could. Yuri did indeed have a lot to think about. Viktor. Yuuri. His feelings for Otabek. Worlds. Otabek. Otabek at Worlds. And Four Continents. He was not competing, but Yuuri and Otabek were, and Viktor was already going. Eventually Yuuri was able to drift off, thoughts lingering on the faint scent of citrus from his bed sheets.

* * *

To the west in Almaty Otabek stepped into the welcome terminal with his suitcase and was instantly almost floored when his cousins tackled him. The younger ones at least. Otabek had a lot of cousins. Soon he was being greeted by other fans and other family, welcoming him back and inquiring about his health and what he had planned for Four Continents. Next thing he knew he was in his family home outside of the city with what seemed to be a hundred people. It was a big deal whenever he returned to the city, as he was a national hero in many regards. He may not have medaled at the Grand Prix but the city of Almaty still celebrated as if he had swept the whole thing and won gold, which he still hoped to do. Still it was hours before he was released from the party and was able to mount his bike and ride back to his apartment. He lived alone in a spacious studio apartment in one of the modern apartment complexes towards the older part of the city. It was all provided by sponsors who really admired him and his skating and Otabek graciously accepted the gifts. Though, his father and uncles were all businessmen and pretty loaded in their own rights. Upon entering his apartment Otabek finally checked his phone and saw several messages from Yuri. The last was sent over two hours ago. It was nearly 2 in the morning for him, which meant Yuri had fallen asleep long ago. He decided he would message the Russian first thing in the morning because he was beat and he really just wanted to sleep. Their friendship was shifting ever so slightly into a relationship. They shared a bed when together, they had snuck a few kisses, and they talked to each other constantly about everything. Yuri had talked about his past at some point too. It was going to be a slow build, but Otabek was willing to wait. It only took a year for Viktor and Yuuri to get together, but those two were so open and it was so very obvious. For Yuri and him, it would take a bit more. Besides, he had Four Continents just around the next bend, and losing would be a huge setback to getting their relationship to the next level. Yuri would roast him alive if he missed the podium. He could see the headlines: "18-YEAR OLD KAZAKH FIGURE SKATER CHEWED OUT BY 15-YEAR OLD ANGRY RUSSIAN KITTEN". Not fun.

The morning he was awoken by the blinging off his cell. It was Yuri. He could tell because he had set a specific text tone for him.  
Yura: DAFAQ U $$ ANSWER YOUR PHONE.  
Atlin: Good morning to you too.  
Yura: WHAT WERE YOU SO BUSY WITH LAST NIGHT THAT YOU COULD NOT EVEN MESSAGE ME BACK ONCE?! *angry face emoji...(s)*  
Atlin: Family. Countryside doesn't have service. Got back to apartment at 2.  
Atlin: Sorry.

Otabek imagined Yuri huffing with crossed arms.

Atlin: Were you worried for me? *wink emoji*  
Yura: YES.

Wow. Yuri did not even bother to insult him again first.

Atlin: Прости* Yura. I'll make sure to check in more often. Didn't mean to make you worried милая**  
Yura: YOU BETTER.

Otabek was again impressed he was not getting insulted for daring to use endearments with Yuri; whenever Viktor tried to use cute stuff with Yuri the younger would start cursing him out. Small things like this were Yuri's way of telling Otabek that he did indeed like him. He did the same by installing a Russian keyboard into his phone as well, in the same manner as Viktor adding a Japanese one to his phone. Yes, he and Yuri were very happy.

After that he and Yuri talked about Moscow and Nikolai and Otabek's massive family. They talked about Otabek's programs and his practices and such. Yuri was to return to St. Petersburg at the end of the week. Otabek was just going to practice and drill in preparation. They would not be able to meet up before Four Continents this time. Yuri assured Otabek that he would be able to make it and Otabek reassured Yuri that it would be fine if he couldn't. After all, Yuri was the newly crowned GP gold medalist and rising star of the skating world and had a reputation to uphold. His program was difficult, and persistence and practice were needed. Otabek had not even made the podium. Yuri had no obligation to follow him to Gangneung; perhaps it was better if Yuri stayed behind in Russia to practice. Still, he wanted the younger to be there, to watch him. It would motivate Otabek more too, to win so that we would face Yuri eye-to-to, medal to medal at Worlds. Still, Otabek was so sure Yuri was far above him, well beyond his reach. As much as their skating styles differed and the difficulties that came with comparing skaters, the skating forums and fan sites and news outlets all seemed to place Yuri as the better of the two. Still, to Otabek, Yuri was the boy with the green eyes of a soldier from all those years ago. Even back then Yuri seemed so far above him, so much stronger, so much braver; he was a lot of what Otabek was not. But it worked both ways. At some point Yuri had scoffed at him to look through his SNS and Instagram. He found the particular posts Yuri was referring to. It was JJ. He was posting bicep selfies and other mucho-man type stuff looking as stupid and arrogant as ever. JJ was posting of how he was going to sweep Four Continents and dominate Worlds and that everyone else should just bow down to him. Yuri, Yuuri, Viktor, Chris, and a few others were tagged. Even Phichit. Otabek was not, and the Kazakh was kind of glad he was left out of the mess, but also kind of offended because the implied message was that 1) JJ did not seem to think he was real competition and 2) was there not worthy of being tagged for the challenge. The comments on the posts consisted of curse words and acceptances and mocking, biting remarks. Yuri even brought up how epically JJ had flunked his short program. The comment wars were hundreds of comments long as fans also thought to contribute their thoughts into the issue. Bets were being placed on who would win ultimately. Otabek did not even want to know how big the pot was now. He soon got another message from Yuri.

Yura: You better fxxxing murder his arrogant ass and make him shove his own skates up his.

Now THIS Otabek could agree too.

Atlin: Sure thing котенок***

And a "murder" plot was set up. Just like that; it seems there was a heavy price on the Canadian's head now. As much as some sympathized with JJ and his struggles to find himself, many fans and skaters were annoyed beyond belief by his antics and pride. It seemed pretty certain, as a few moments later Otabek got a notification that Yuri had upload a post as well. It was a short slow-mo video of Yuri 1) flipping off the camera, 2) glaring at the camera and 3) executing a near perfect one-handed Biellmann spin while using his free hand to flip off the camera while glaring at it. Caption: Jjleroy!15 The only way you'd podium at FC is if all the other skaters DIED. Even then, I'll happily kick your $$ at Worlds. The post was followed by several more hashtags. The post was already getting comments about "APPLY COLD WATER TO THAT BURN" and "Ah SNaP" and other stuff. JJ had yet to respond. Otabek commented a thumbs up in support. Only he and Yuri would really know what it meant anyways. Other than that, there were a few posts by other skaters. Otabek liked a selfie that Viktor had taken of himself and Yuuri at the rink. There was a hickey to be spotted JUST above the edges of Yuuri's scarf. He also liked a photo Yuuri had taken of Makkachin in a dog version of the _"Stay Close to Me"_ costume. It was blue like Yuuri's though, further cementing how close the dog had grown to Yuuri. Even though Otabek was not very active on social media, he kept a close following of Yuri's posts. They both felt the loneliness.

They talked for a few more hours before Otabek had to leave for practice. Promising to talk more later that night, he locked his phone and went about getting ready to head to the rink. He had a promise to uphold and a false king to dethrone. He used those to fuel his practice, jumping higher, trying to perfect his quads. He was not a natural like Viktor or Yuuri, but talent was only 1%. What Otabek had was the other 99%: grit.

* * *

January rolled into February soon enough. The first day of competition was the 14th, and Yuri now had less than a week to confirm or decline to go. It should not have been a difficult choice, but his jumps had not been as consistent lately for whatever reason. A year ago he would have brushed it off, but being overconfident was dangerous. Yuri had arrived in St. Petersburg after his week with Nikolai was over. With a somewhat tearful good-bye and promises to call and Nikolai's promise to watch every one of Yuri's performances, Yuri boarded the plane and returned to his second family. Viktor and Yuuri were still in Japan. So it was just Mila and Georgi, as Yakov had bared all others from the rink except those competing in Worlds. Yuri had only been out of practice for a week, and his skills were mostly intact. But his landings were ever so wobbly and his blades were slightly off pitch as they scrapped the ice, and an average person never would have noticed, but Yuri knew. And so did Yakov, considering how much harder he was pushing Yuri. Yuri was slightly preoccupied with his dilemma. He had yet to talk with Yakov about it. It took all the way until it was only 2 days before the competition that he piped up. To Yuri's surprise Yakov said he already suspected as much. He also said he had taken the liberty of clearing the following days as well. He also made it clear to Yuri that he expected that he not slack. Yuri thought as much. But he had his answer, and that day he landed every quad flip perfectly, even giving Viktor a run for his money it seemed. He broke the news to Otabek that night.

Yuri: I'm going.  
Beka: *thumbs up*  
Beka: Look forward to seeing you again.

Yuri definitely did not blush.

Yuri: Same to you.  
Yuri: Idiot.  
Yuri: I'm only going to meet with Viktor and so I can kick your $$ in person if you don't beat the beaver.  
Yuri could almost hear Otabek laughing from his side of the conversation.  
Beka: K. Thx.

There was silent then for a few minutes.

Yuri: I'll see you soon.  
Beka: *thumbs up*  
Beka: Same Yura. I'll see you soon.

Yuri most definitely did not smile or blush at Otabek's response. He'd yell at Viktor whenever he called him "Yurio", but he actually seemed to like Otabek call him "Yura". It represented familiarity, a symbol of their friendship. Little did he know Otabek felt the same about "Beka". That night Yuri fell asleep with dreams of him and Beka walking along a beach at sundown. It had never happened, but Yuri desperately wanted this reality. If only he would work up the guts to set it into motion.

So Yuri then found himself exiting a plane to Incheon International Airport and traveling by a pre-arranged private car to Gangneung. It was a long ride to the other side of the country, and Yuri was twitchy and anxious. It was late afternoon when he finally arrived at the hotel. He had a few hours before he would go out with Otabek for dinner. He was to skate tomorrow morning so they could not do too much that evening. To his surprise Otabek was already in the lobby when Yuri strolled in with his leopard print gym bag in a pleather jacket white tee and tiger print sweatpants. Otabek was looking as badass as ever in a leather jacket and simple blue button up and ripped indigo jeans and fingerless gloves. He had two helmets, and was holding flowers. Yuri felt his cheeks burn as he accepted the bouquet murmuring a thanks but also added in a curse for embarrassing him in public. The flowers were left with the rest of Yuri's luggage to be taken up to THEIR room as Yuri and Otabek hopped on the rented bike and headed out for food. The ride there was therapeutic in a way, watching the blurs of lights and colors pass. As they strolled through the city, passing hooded figures and small children and long haired women in heels, it was just refreshing to be in a new environment. They also ran into other skaters while in the city, Viktor. JUST Viktor, because Yuuri was "too exhausted" and needed "rest" from "strenuous activities." Yuri just glared but said nothing. He did not want to even think about it. It was a pleasant dinner at a Korean Chicken restaurant. They both abstained from drinking and just chatted idly about the competition and how Yuri's practice has been going and such. After riding back, Otabek handed the keys to his bike to the valet and headed inside with Yuri close behind. Otabek hit the shower first. As Yuri stared out the window to the parking lot below, completely still save for the smoker by one of the cars. The city lights were a distance away and all seemed quiet. Yuri wondered if he would be blessed with more times like these, waiting for Otabek to return in their shared room. They were both in bed by nine, as Otabek was to wake quite early the following morning. As Yuri snuggled next to Otabek no words were really needed to express how much they missed each other in the few short weeks since they last met.

* * *

Yuuri stared out onto the ice and breathed in the cold air, one earbud in. He was already in costume, his skates laced and blessed by Viktor, his glasses stowed backstage and Viktor by his side. He went over a few of the finer points of his short program in his head again. Viktor had assured him that he was ready. Yuri was also nearby, easily spottable as he sported a Russian team jacket with red cat ears added to the hood thanks to Mila sabotaging the jacket earlier that month. Otabek was with him, doing a final check on his laces and chatting with his coach. They were here. It was time for them to prove themselves. Yuri could feel his stomach attempting triple toe loops but he was always nervous. Or anxious. Or both. He was used to it by now it seemed.

Yuri entered the rink, Viktor on the other side of the barrier. He was first in this group.

"Next Up, representing Japan is Katsuki Yuuri"

Yuuri looked to Viktor again.

" You will be fine любимая****. Just skate. "  
"Don't look away."  
"Never."

With that, Yuri let go of Viktor's hand and made his way to the center of the ice and made his starting pose. _Let it begin_.

* * *

*Прости (Sorry)  
**милая (Sweet/Dear)  
*** котенок (Kitten)  
****любимая (Beloved)

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this little Otabek x Yurio tangent. But we have now reached Four Continents! WHO WILL WIN? Can Otabek keep his promise?! Is Yuuri going to live up to his GP performances? IS JJ ACTUALLY GOING TO BE RIGHT AND KICK EVERYONE'S $$es?! Stick around, because Winter is Coming and it is not going to be pretty.


	8. Chapter 8 - Crash and Rise

A/N: Lucky me; I had Monday off so I am able to publish another chapter this week. I apologize as I notice the story is not progressing as quickly as some would like, but now that most of the character establishment is completed the plot will be moving faster now. So buckle up kiddies because sh*t is about to go down soon. Also warning, EXTREME ANGST LEVEL AHEAD.

" _I'm sick."_ As much as Yuuri did not want to admit it to himself, he was going into Four Continents rather unwell. Maybe it was due to the colder climate of Hatsetsu in the winter, be Yuuri really ever got sick. He had absolutely never skated competitively while unwell, until now. He had not told Viktor. It should not have been that big of a deal. It was just a headache, it was just a slightly scratchy throat, just a slightly runny nose and his chest was not hurting THAT much. He was not coughing THAT often. Of course Viktor had noticed but Yuuri did well in hiding his symptoms and brushed it off, saying it was nothing and that it would pass. Yuuri had been self-medicating with cough syrup and other over-the-counter medication and it was working fine. But Yuuri still felt horrible. Still, Yuuri told himself that he would be fine. It was not that severe. Besides, he HAD to compete at Four Continents. He just had too, else it would be too shameful and he would be too disappointed in himself. He was totally going to be fine.

Yuuri wasn't.

He had blotched the landing of his quadruple flip, Viktor's signature move. He had blotched the landing, again. Just like in Barcelona. And his step-work had not been as smooth. And he landed his triple toe loop with a slight tilt too far. His mind had been blurry while skating, as if he were hearing his program music from underwater. Still, even with the mistakes Yuuri scored higher than he thought. At the end of the day, he was third, behind Leo in second and…JJ in first. JJ had most definitely redeemed himself from the Grand Prix mess. His short program had been perfect, strong landing and ostentatious movements and all. Of course a king was going to show off to his subjects. Leo though was close behind, only a little more than 3 points below JJ and less than 3 points above Yuuri. Leo had a strong program too, but of course JJ's had more base points. Otabek was currently in sixth behind Seung-gil. But there was only a little more than 9 points between Otabek and Yuuri, as everyone had such strong performances with only slight mistakes. A hand on the ice. A shaking landing of a combo. A triple instead of a quad. Even with the standings as they were at the end of the day, JJ was not guaranteed his gold. The free programs would determine that, and everyone still had a chance. It would be close. It was still anyone's guess who would end up on top. Bets were still being placed; it seemed most people still thought Yuuri would win as he WAS the GP silver medalist and his coach WAS THE Viktor Nikiforov.

As Yuuri exited the ice he grabbed his glasses from the coach's outstretched hand. Without them, Yuuri was practically blind, and he wanted to be able to see his epic fail of a score so he could mull over it later. Viktor sat with Yuuri in the Kiss and Cry as they waited for the scores. Yuuri could have done better, but they both knew that. Viktor knew Yuuri was mulling away internally over his mistakes. Viktor would have to reassure him more later when they returned to the hotel that Yuuri would be just fine. As they waited Viktor tried to keep it positive but Yuuri just nodded at his words and did not reply. Viktor kept the smile plastered on, for Yuuri's sake. Besides, Yurio was not here. Viktor really did believe Yuuri would win after the free skate. He KNEW Yuuri could pull off another flawless performance if he only believed in himself too. It was Viktor's job that he did. So later that evening after the two had returned to their hotel room Viktor watched as a blank-faced dead looking Yuuri slugged his way to the bed and just plopped with down, lost in his own thoughts. If it were an anime scene there would be a dark colored aura and storm clouds above Yuuri as he beat himself up over his mistakes. Viktor suspected that Yuuri was sick, but if Yuuri said that he was fine and that he wanted to skate than who was Viktor to stop him. Viktor had to watch himself as so he would not become overly-protective of Yuuri and suffocate him in the process. They were both still learning about each other's habits and boundaries and such. They had known each other for almost a year now, and had been together for not even half of that time, so there was still so much to be learned about each other. But Viktor would do it; he loved the younger and was going to learn everything about Yuuri. The trust was still being built, but it was constantly growing stronger. Yuuri learned to be more open and Viktor was now much better at handling his emotions. So as Yuuri felt the bed dip need to his head and a hand begin to run through his hair he did not flinch or attempt to move away. Besides, Viktor has seen Yuuri cry much harder than he was right now. Viktor just stayed need to Yuuri, stroking his hair as he waited until the younger was ready to face him, however long it took. Eventually Yuuri turned to face him with slightly puffy eyes and tear streaks, a few strands of hair having broken loose from the not-so-slicked back hair. He scooted his way in Viktor's hug and just wept silently against Viktor's chest. And they spent some time like that, Yuuri running his mind, Viktor reiterating that he did great and that he had not failed and that he would do amazing in the free skate. He knew Yuuri was not going to be completely fine, but if Viktor could help take some of the edge off then he would do it. After Yuuri stopped crying and Viktor had no more tears to wipe away he lead Yuuri into the bathroom so they could clean up and prepare for bed.

 ** _THIS IS YOUR SMUT WARNING_**

As they stood together under the spray of warm water Viktor helped to wash Yuuri's hair; the younger always found comfort in his head being massaged. Yuuri turned to face Viktor and wrapped his arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss, which Viktor happily obliged to. One peck turned into three, which then progressed to a full-on make-out session as Viktor moved them back out of the spray to cage Yuuri against the cold marble of the other side of the shower. The steam from the water was making it extra hot, and Yuuri seemed even redder in the face as Viktor kept pressing soft kisses on his face, down his neck, down his collarbone. With one hand he grabbed Yuuri's hardening length, eliciting a gasp, followed by a groan as Viktor began to stroke while sucking on his collarbone.

"Vitya~~~"  
"Shhh; let me do this любимая"

Viktor moved down, trailing kiss down Yuuri's stomach before taking his length down in one go, his nose nuzzling into the small patch of hair on his groin. Yuuri never once questioned by Viktor lacked a gag reflex; honestly he never was one to question Viktor's gift in sexual matters and just enjoyed it. Yuuri let out a strained moan as his fingers found their way into Viktor's silver locks, tugging lightly. Viktor had been Yuuri's hips to the wall so the younger could only attempt to push himself further down Viktor's throat. As Yuuri was lost in the wet heat around his cock Viktor slid his free hand around, first playing with Yuuri's balls making the man moan louder, then slipping them to his entrance.

"Vitya~~~"

Viktor grinned around Yuuri's cock from the pants and groans as he played with his hole, before slipping a finger in and searching for that one spot…

Yuuri's grip on Viktor's hair tightened as he almost choked on the shot of pleasure that ran through his spine. The combined feeling of Viktor's finger on his prostate and the sucking of his cock was maddening. He wasn't going to last much longer. Within minutes, with Viktor licking at his head and his finger rubbing his prostate Yuuri came with a scream of Viktor's name, releasing down Viktor's throat as the elder swallowed the whole load. Releasing Yuuri with a pop, he removed his finger as well, looking up with darkened blue eyes full of lust, licking his lips to clean with remnants of Yuuri's release.

Yuuri slid down the shower wall to the floor on trembling legs, guided by Viktor who then moved closer to tower over the younger.

"Feeling better?" Viktor teased. Yuuri only murmured so indiscernible noises as he nodded, still coming down from his high. Viktor swooped in for a couple kisses. Yuuri could taste himself, but he looked passed it as he weakly tangled tongues with Viktor. The water was only lukewarm by then as Viktor turned off the water and lifted Yuuri out of the shower stall. He dried them both off and lifted Yuuri and headed out to the bedroom. Yuuri's head lulled against Viktor's shoulder, fully content and fighting a losing battle against sleep. That and he was still sick, though the symptoms had been momentarily forgotten in their steamy affairs. Viktor got them both dressed before turning off all the lights and tucking himself in with Yuuri for the night, who was already asleep by the time he joined him. With his nose buried in soft raven locks Viktor soon joined him. Yuuri would be fine now.

Not.

* * *

Viktor was at ringside during Yuuri's free program, right where he should be. He tracked Yuuri's every move with keen eyes. Yuuri had not woken up from any nightmares the night before, and Viktor slept the whole night so he assumed Yuuri had a peaceful rest. Yet, earlier that morning Yuuri looked like sh*t for a lack of better terms. Viktor suspected his cold was getting worse and had casually asked if Yuuri was okay. Of course he had brushed it off and said he was fine as they headed to the rink for a practice run before the free programs began. Viktor had watched him, and Yuuri was doing okay. He seemed a bit paler and there were bags under his eyes, but he was executing his jumps just fine and was generally the same, save that he seemed more winded after the practice run than he should have been. Viktor gave him the benefit of the doubt. Now as Viktor watched Yuuri under-rotate a Quad Salchow, Triple-Toe-Loop combination and wipe out after his attempted quad Viktor though for sure he was going to hell because what kind of a terrible coach and fiancé was he to let Yuuri skate while sick. Oh Yuuri had started out just fine, but after the half-way point, when the big jumps and combo began Yuuri began to falter. First the shaky landing on his Quad Flip, then the hand on the ice after a Triple Axel-Double Toe-Triple Lutz combo, and now this, a painful looking fall that took Yuuri longer than usual to get back up from. Viktor could feel the tears welling in his eyes as he watched Yuuri struggle through the last step sequences into his final pose as the music finally drew to a close. As Yuuri quickly skated his way off the ice he quickly shoved the skate guards on and moved past Viktor before the Russian could get a word out of his shocked expression. Viktor snapped out of his trance quickly and followed Yuuri to the Kiss and Cry. Now next to him, as he held one of Yuuri's hands, Viktor could feel how cold it felt. Yuuri was red faced and his eyes were glassy. He would not look at Viktor, nor the screen in front of him. He just stared at the floor, his grip on Viktor so weak Viktor felt his heart break. They score was announced. Yuuri choked out a short cry but was otherwise expressionless. This was his lowest score. Ever. Even worse than from that fatal Grand Prix. It stood in such strong contrast to the record-breaking performance from his last Grand Prix. Yuuri then promptly rose and left the bench followed quickly by Viktor. Yurio ran up to him looking ready to scream his head off but upon seeing Yuuri's state his angry expression morphed into one of concern as his glance shifted to Viktor, as if asking what the heck was wrong and if he knew. Viktor's expression was just pained, as he blamed himself so much for letting Yuuri skate while ill. He just glanced at Yuri as he passed, quickly staying behind Yuuri, wherever the younger was now headed. Yuuri moved quickly through the backstage area, or as quickly as he could with skates on. Everyone seemed to move out of the way quickly, and Viktor caught some sympathetic glances but he just kept up with Yuuri. Eventually they ended up in a staff area of sorts were they were no people. Just a dimly lit corridor. Yuuri began to cough, one hand bracing himself against the wall while the other covered his mouth. When it came away, Viktor could see the blood gleaming on the pristine gold ring as Yuuri finally collapsed in a pile of tears.

"YUURI!" Viktor gasped as he rushed forward to catch the skater as he began to sway, catching him and lowering them both to the floor. Yuuri was crying but his eyes were unfocused and he was breathing short shallow wispy breaths.

"Vitya-"Yuuri managed to gasp as he reached to raise a hand to his panicked mentor's cheeks, feeling the wetness. "I'm s-"he slurred before promptly passing out. He could hear Viktor screaming his name as he gave into the pain and darkness.

Viktor panicked as Yuuri's hand slipped from his face. He shook Yuuri but he was not responding. Checking his pulse, it was erratic but still, this was not good. Viktor screamed for someone to call emergency services. For whatever reason JJ was the closest nearby and after standing shocked for a moment he whipped out his pre-paid phone and called emergency. Viktor continued to hold Yuuri in his arms, propping him so that he lay against his chest as Viktor kept begging Yuuri to wake up between sobs. Viktor was panicking; yes Yuuri was not DEAD (this wasn't a KDrama where people randomly dropped dead from fast acting cancer) but still, Yuuri had FAINTED. Soon other skater flooded in after hearing Viktor and JJ screaming and soon there was a crowd. Yuri was pale and Phichit was holding back sobs while others tried to ask Viktor about what had happened. Soon medics arrived and Yuuri was lifted onto a gurney and rushed out of the rink to a waiting ambulance, Viktor close behind. It seemed their relationship was of international knowledge as no one even questioned Viktor when he jumped in along with the gurney. The ride to the hospital was thankfully swift and Yuuri was immediately rushed into the ER. Viktor was stopped by a nurse who informed him in broken English that Yuuri was in good hands and that they would call on him as soon as Yuuri was taken care of. So there Viktor stood, Yuuri's blood on his shirt from where he had held his head against his chest, breathing heavily and in tears. Viktor felt utterly numb and hopeless; this was all his fault. If only he had gone with his gut instincts and forced Yuuri out of the competition and to a doctor. The younger would have hated him, but at least he would be safe. Viktor found his way to a restroom, which was thankfully empty. Hiding himself in one of the stalls he collapsed against the wall and wept into this knees. He could only wait now, and pay for his sins when Yuuri was better.

* * *

Yuri stayed behind. Somehow word had reached the officials that Yuuri had fainted and the competition was suspended until Yuuri and Viktor had left for the hospital. Everyone was concerned but they knew that those still at the rink could not do much to help at the moment. So the show went on. Yuri watched as Leo entered the ice to begin his program but he did not pay much attention. As the ranking stood, Yuuri was in 12th place. Otabek was in first. Although Yuri was extremely proud of him, Yuri knew that it was partially unfair circumstances. Yuri, and Otabek as well, knew Yuuri definitely had the potential to beat Otabek had he been in better health. Thinking back on it now, Yuri wondered how he did not notice the signs. Yuuri had not been with Viktor that first night in the city; he had not been feeling well. And when Yuuri did catch brief glimpses of Yuuri, the man did seem paler, and was also ever so slightly more distant from Viktor. And he had kept to himself backstage mostly; it was so that no one would pick up the fact that Yuuri was unwell. As Yuri thought back all the pieces fell into place. And he was angry. _"That stupid piggy! He skated in though he was so unwell?! He could have seriously hurt himself!"_ Then Yuri thought of Viktor. Had Viktor known?! If so why did Viktor not stop Yuuri?! Or had Viktor been too ignorant and not noticed? Or had they both underestimated the sickness' affect on Yuuri. Either way, it was too later for preventative measures, and now was not the time for Yuri to call Viktor and start screaming at their irresponsibility. Viktor had enough to worry about as it was; Yuri could only shiver of the thought of having to wait to Otabek in a hospital. He hoped that it would never happen. Otabek sat with Yuri, also concerned for Yuuri. He watched JJ's performance and noted the minor mistakes, but it seemed understandable. He did find a hysterical Viktor in a corridor cradling a bleeding passed out Yuuri; it was a traumatizing image for any person, and JJ had to perform not that long after Yuuri was rolled away before his eyes into an ambulance. Yuri seemed to think the same as he did not make comments on JJ's mistakes either. With JJ's scores announced, the final scores were broadcast. Otabek did not even smile at winning gold; it was a bittersweet victory. He actually felt sad Yuuri had not beat him. So Yuri watched at ringside as Otabek was presented gold, JJ silver, and Phichit the bronze. All of them wore solemn masks during the ceremony, twitching and anxious to exit the rink and catch cabs to the hospital. The competition had taken a tragic turn and medals and rankings only resided on the backs of the skater' minds, if at all. Otabek kept his promise. Yuri was glad. But the medal was soon shoved in a bag along with Otabek's skates as he quickly threw on his sneakers and shoes and ran with Yuri out the arena and hailed a cab before anyone could stop them. Other skaters soon followed with similar speed.

* * *

Viktor shot up from his seat when a nurse exited asking for anyone waiting of Katsuki. The nurse might have flinched at Viktor's disheveled appearance but otherwise began to run through Yuuri's diagnosis. Yuuri had collapsed from over-exertion, but it was not from a simple cold. Apparently Yuuri had been infected by a strange mutated form of strep throat, something the doctors at the hospital had only seen a handful of times in their decades as a medical center. Yuuri was treated with the proper fluids and provided medication and was now resting peacefully. He had been moved out of the ICU into the recovery unit and would continue to be closely monitored. Nurses would check up on him every hour, just to be sure. As the nurse led him back Viktor could only thank whatever deities and powers of beyond that his Yuuri was safe, and beg them for forgiveness. Viktor would have given his life to save Yuuri's if it had come down to that. Entering the room, the nurse told him to call if he needed anything and closed the door behind them to allow for privacy. Viktor made his way over to Yuuri. He lay still unconscious, pale and unmoving with an oxygen mask attached over his mouth and several IVs in his arms attached to clear fluids Viktor knew nothing about. Yuuri looked so weak and helpless, and Viktor could only blame himself more. He kneeled at bedside, taking one of Yuuri's hands in his own shaking hands, kissing the cold white hand with too many needles.

"I'm so sorry. I should have stopped you. I should not have pushed you so far. I should have stopped this. I knew you were sick; I should have stopped you. You would have been so angry with me if I had pulled you out, but I would rather see you well and angry with me than like this. Oh god Yuuri I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry." Viktor wept into the sheets at Yuuri's side. He whispered Old Russian prayers that he had not uttered in so long. The last time had been over two decades ago when his grandmother was dying. She had not lived, but Yuuri would. Viktor knew Yuuri was strong; Yuuri would make it. Yuuri would make it.

* * *

Yuri staggered into the hospital lobby, Otabek not far behind. The traffic had been horrendous and Yuri was twitching the whole ride there, Otabek trying to reassure him that he was sure Yuuri was fine. After asking a bit too loudly where Yuuri was the nurse gave him the room number and they sped down out of the lobby. Entering the room, Yuri lost his breath. Otabek's eyes widened as Yuri slowly inched his way toward Viktor, who had turned his head when he heard the door open. Viktor was terrifying to look at. There was blood on his shirt, his eyes with rimmed in red and he was still crying. "Yuri-"

"How is he?!" Yuri asked in barely a whisper, but Viktor heard. He gave a sad smile to Yuri. "He's alive, and he'll be fine. This was all my fault, this was all my fault. Yuri I let this happen; I let him go out there. This is all my fault."

As Viktor fell in hysterics again Otabek moved in, shutting the door behind him. Yuri moved next to Viktor and he and Otabek maneuvered the weeping man into a chair and Yuri sat with him, rubbing his back as he tried to calm Viktor down. Viktor had defaulted to Russian and continued to blame himself as he clung to Yuri. Yuri sucked at comforting people, but he just sat with Viktor and let him weep against his jacket and listened to his pitiful self-deprecation. After Viktor eventually calmed down, he asked Yuri about how the event went. Yuri disclosed how they delayed the next program for a bit and how JJ faltered, and how Otabek won. Viktor congratulated the other, Otabek nodding in return and giving thanks. The mood was still very morose as they all sat and waited on Yuri, talking about whatever they could think of to pass the time. Yuri took in the image of the man in the hospital bed. Pale. Sickly. Too many wires and too many machines beeping. He needed Yuuri to wake up and say that he was fine, only so Yuri could yell at him for copping out of his performance and letting himself be beat by inferior people (in Yuri's opinion). But that was just Yuri's way of saying he really wanted Yuuri to be okay.

Yuri and Otabek soon left, but only after obtaining Viktor's hotel key. They caught a cab back to the hotel and while Otabek returned to their room to clean up and change, Yuri went to Viktor's room and grabbed a change of clothing for the man, as well as some clothes for Yuuri. Returning to his own room he waited for Otabek to finish. They left and caught another cab back to the hospital. But before returning to Yuuri's room they stopped by the gift shop and bought flowers and a get well card, which they both signed. Returning to the room, there was a nurse there checking Yuuri's vitals. Viktor was asleep in his chair, still clutching Yuuri's hand, his head on the bed by Yuuri's sad. Otabek asked the nurse for a blanket while Yuri arranged the flowers and card by Yuuri's bedside. The clothes were set on a table opposite the bed. Otabek draped the sterilized white sheet over Viktor and rearranged his head so that he would not have neck pain when he awoke. They stayed a bit longer, asked the nurse some questions, learned of Yuuri's strange ailment. But otherwise the two left and returned to their hotel, which fortunately was much closer than the arena. Yuri took it upon himself to update social media on Yuuri's condition. Condolences, prayers, relieved comments and such all poured in but Yuri turned off the notifications. Yuri had a fitful sleep that night. Otabek only held him tightly, now knowing what it was like to see a loved one in a hospital bed. He hoped to never have to see such a sight ever again. Especially if Yuri was in it.

* * *

*любимая (Beloved)

A/N: And we see why I stuck this under angst; don't kill me please :p.  
Anyways, hope you enjoyed this chapter. I will update again whenever I can. Comments and suggestions are always welcome and feel free to PM me about anything. Thanks guys! And I do read all your reviews, just FYI.


	9. Chapter 9 - RISE

A/N: Hey readers. Author here. Thanks for the continued support so far. So…Author-nim has a question for you guys. Are you guys interested in me actually going into detail about the skating programs and costumes and stuff or do you want me to speed up the plot, glance over the details, and get to the meaty stuff. If you have a specific opinion or request feel free to leave a review and/or drop a PM. Okay! Enjoy!

Yuuri opened his eyes to the sight of dim lights from various lamps around the room. He was not in his hotel room, which was odd. His head hurt, and his throat felt a bit sore. There was a lot of beeping around him and he smelled a lot of antiseptics and industrial cleaning agents. Yuuri instinctively reached for his glasses when he noticed he couldn't move his hand, which was in someone's tight grip. Even in the dim light Yuuri could make out the shiny silver hair of his fiancé. What was Viktor doing here, in an uncomfortable looking chair at bedside and why was he gripping his hand so tightly. When Yuuri attempted to pull his hand away Viktor stirred and lifted his head. Viktor looked horrible and, wait, why was there blood on his shirt. Viktor did not look to have any injuries but his eyes were super puffy and red and he had dark circles underneath and Viktor looked even paler than usual. Yuuri then noticed the needles in his arms and the mask over his face. It dawned upon him that he was in a hospital. Viktor sat up and smiled at Yuuri, but also started to cry again, using his other hand to cover his mouth as he tried to contain his sorrowful laughs.

"Yuuri! *sob* You're awake. You're finally awake!"  
"Viktor-"  
"I was so worried. You fell so suddenly and you had coughed up blood and you were so pale and, and, oh Yuuri this is all my fault. Hate me Yuuri; I let you skate while you were so ill! You could have injured yourself! I was so scared. Yuuri I-"  
"VIKTOR!"

Viktor stopped talking and looked at Yuuri. Yuuri sighed and took up Viktor's hand again, intertwining their fingers. The golden rings barely glowed in the light. Viktor thought he could still smell the blood that was on Yuuri's ring not that long ago. Viktor took their hands to his lips and pressed a kiss to Yuuri's still too cold hand, looking to Yuuri to speak,

"It was my fault Viktor. I was too ambitious; I lied to you about my illness. It was not your fault; I lied because I did not want you to worry. I did not want to disappoint you by pulling out just because of a small cold-"  
"Yuuri it was more than just a cold; you were infected with one of the rarest and strangest flu strands to ever exist; the doctor was saying how this hospital had only seen 4 other cases in 7 decades." Viktor explained. Yuuri looked shocked. Yuuri could only muster a small "oh." Viktor let out a small laugh. "Ah Yuuri. I would not have been disappointed at all if you pulled out. I'm impressed with how you managed to still skate while ill like that; don't do it again." Viktor said, leaning forward so that he was right in front of Yuuri's face. The younger nodded and Viktor sighed. "I'm just glad that you're okay." Viktor said with a small sigh, rubbing his thumb around Yuuri's knuckles. Yuuri could feel himself crying too; he had hurt Viktor with his flippantly irresponsible actions. Yuuri leaned forward to press a kiss to the top of Viktor's head, reassuring the elder that he was fine. Viktor shifted so that their lips met instead, murmuring about how he just glad Yuuri was alive. A few tears were shed but as the sun rose and soft orange light began to stream in through the curtains the two made peace with the whole ordeal and looked to the future. Viktor reached over to the bedside table and handed Yuuri his glasses; Viktor looked even worse when Yuuri got a clearer sight of the other. Yuuri felt horrible because it was his fault for worrying Viktor so much. They stayed like that, holding hands and talking about nothings. Yuuri did not bring up the competition and Yuuri completely understood why. He knew Viktor did not blame him for his performance; Yuuri could only blame his dumb illness and overconfidence. But Yuuri was sad though, not performing better. The whole world had watched the ordeal live; it was quite disgraceful in his opinion. Viktor knew they would have to talk about it eventually, just not now. Yuuri was still very ill and his recovery would take some time. Thankfully Yuuri had not injured himself, by the grace of some out-worldly power. Of course there were bruises from where he had crash on the ice but he was a skater, and those were all too common. Soon the doctor entered and checked in on Yuuri's vitals now that he had woken up. The doctor again went through the diagnosis and the medications that Yuuri was to be placed on. Otherwise, Yuuri just needed a lot of rest and needed to be kept well-hydrated. Then the doctor left, saying he would send in a nurse soon after for the release papers. It would be at least another week before Yuuri could step onto ice again; it would be quite a hindrance with Worlds not far away. Yuuri was going to have to practice 40 times harder when he returned. Viktor understood this as well, and knew Yuuri was bummed and worried. But Yuuri's health came first; Viktor would not trade his fiancé's well-being for all the gold medals in the world.

Once the nurse had returned Viktor signed the release documents and helped Yuuri change into his street clothes, a plain long-sleeved black t-shirt, a pair of slacks, and a worn down grey hoodie. Viktor changed as well, as he should not be seen around in a blood stained shirt. Viktor insisted that Yuuri be rolled out in a wheel chair to the younger's protests. He gave in eventually, just to alleviate Viktor's fears. They would stick to their schedule and fly out back to St. Petersburg in the evening. It was agreed upon, so Viktor could keep an eye on Yuuri while he practiced. Viktor was reluctant to leave Yuuri behind while he practiced, but it would be an injustice to Yuuri and the other skaters if Viktor were not in top shape for Worlds. Yuri would murder him for sure. Speaking of Yuri, he was there in the lobby when Viktor exited the hospital. Viktor and Yuuri had each updated their social media accounts prior Yuuri's release. Yuuri received hundreds of comments from well-wishers, wishing for a speedy recovery and a safe return to the ice rink and so on. Yuri seemed to have gotten the message, because he was there with Otabek and a cab so they could all return to the hotel. Yuri did not say anything to Yuuri as they left the hospital, only raising an eyebrow at the wheelchair. "You're not injured are you?" Yuri asked, glaring at Viktor. "Oh no, this is just a precaution," Yuuri answered, gesturing at the chair. Yuri nodded once in response. "Good," he huffed. The ride back was silent, with Yuuri snuggled against Viktor in the backseat of the cab and Yuri following behind with Otabek on the bike. They all arrived back at the hotel and returned to their respective rooms. It was still early and they all still needed to eat. After Yuuri and Viktor had cleaned themselves up among shared gentle touches and kisses in the shower, they packed they redressed and packed their bags, heading back to the lobby. They had agreed to catch a meal with Yuri before their flight. Otabek was already gone, as he had an earlier flight and headed to the airport soon after Yuri was dropped off. Yuri looked a bit grouchier without Otabek with him. Catching a cab to the downtown area they found a noodle shop. They spent the rest of the morning chatting over steaming bowls of noodle soup and other forms of comfort food. "You better bring your best to Worlds" was Yuri's way of saying "get better soon" and Yuuri smiled and thanked Yuri for his concern. He and Yuri had grown a lot closer since the Grand Prix; it was a strange friendship of sorts, but a strong and deep running one built on respect and care nevertheless. Viktor was glad it worked out. He knew Yuuri's recovery was going to be difficult, but Viktor was going to be there every step of the way, and Yuuri was going to rise again. Viktor was going to make sure of it.

That night Viktor held Yuuri tightly as the younger slept peacefully in his arms. Yuuri had passed out not long after take-off and slept the entire flight back. He seemed barely awake still as they exited the plane and maneuvered through the airport, grabbed their luggage and found Yakov, who had offered a ride back to their apartment. Yakov inquired a bit on Yuuri's condition, having been kept updated by Yuri apparently; Yuuri was drifting off the entire ride, his head resting on Viktor's lap. Upon arriving at the apartment Viktor did not even bother and lifted Yuuri up into his arms and entered the apartment building, Yakov following with their suitcases. As mean and cruel Yakov could be as a coach, he really was a kind-hearted man who cared deeply for his students and only wanted the best for each of them. Viktor thanked Yakov again as the older man nodded and closed the door of the apartment behind him as Viktor set Yuuri onto the couch. Makkachin had bounded to them as Viktor carried Yuuri to the couch, but did not pounce on the couple. By then the younger had stirred awake and taking in his surroundings. Viktor felt Yuuri's forehead and felt that he still had a low-grade fever. Viktor then turned on the TV for him, grabbed blankets and pillows and bundled Yuuri up and propped him in front of the TV. Makkachin settled right in next to Yuuri, the Japanese man obliging and stroking the dog's head. Viktor grabbed medicine and the prescriptions and a glass of water for Yuuri, helping Yuuri swallow them. He then left Yuuri for the bathroom, telling Yuuri to call for him if he needed anything. While Yuuri was relaxing on the couch Viktor drew a warm bath and added scented bubble bath foam and lit some lavender scented candles. Once he finished drawing the bath he returned to the living room and lifted Yuuri out of his blanket fort and carried him into the bathroom, though Yuuri continued to half-heartedly insist he was fine walking himself. Stripping them both down, he helped Yuuri into their large bathtub bubbling to the brim and scooted in behind him, so that Yuuri was leaning back against Viktor's chest. Yuuri hmm'd contently as Viktor washed his hair and scrubbed him down. It was a romantic gesture and not sexual in any matter. Yuuri just relaxed against the firm chest, eyes closed, taking in the feel of the warm water and the scents. He already felt much better, momentarily forgetting his illness. They sat together until the bubbles and dissipated and the water was no longer warm and the candles were snuffed out. Viktor lifted Yuuri out of the tub and dried and dressed them both. Makkachin was already asleep at the foot of their bed and Viktor slipped right in with Yuuri tucked at his side. The younger was soon fast asleep, still exhausted from the last few hours. Viktor stayed awake a little longer, still reflecting over the events. He was glad Yuuri did not blame him, and that Yuuri was safe, right there with him, his scent filling his nostrils. Viktor really did love Yuuri, so much and yet never enough. He continued to fall in love with the small things about him, every day it seemed. It was a cold winter's night and the heater was not on, but bundled under several layers next to Yuuri, it was warm and comfy enough, and Viktor did not want to be anywhere else at the moment. Viktor eventually did give into the lull of sleep to the sounds of Yuuri's soft snores.

* * *

In another part of the city Yuri was still awake in his bedroom in Lilia's flat. Yuuri was fine. Yuri had been worried for him but it seemed Yuuri would fight through and recover as always. He still blamed Viktor more than Yuuri for the situation. Yuri had come to learn of the Japanese man's anxiety, and his fear of Viktor leaving him. Yuuri had secretly confided in him once or twice. Yuri still did not understand why he was chosen, but he was and Yuri took his duty seriously. Yuri now felt a tinge of guilt from confronting him in the bathroom at the 2015 Grand Prix; he understood now why Yuuri just stood there and internalized the cutting remarks Yuri had spat. Yuri did not know the full story of what happened to send Yuuri to the hospital but Yuri could bring himself to forgive Yuuri, because Yuri felt he would do the same. He could relate to that level of pressure to meet expectations, to live up to one's previous successes, to exceed them. Viktor had been in the sport longer; he should have known better; he should have pushed harder to keep Yuuri out of harm's way. But he could not blame Viktor completely either; the man was already feeling guilty enough, and was doing everything he could in the aftermath to fix things. Yuri had caught Viktor praying in the hospital; he had never seen him do that before that night. Really all they could do now was wait, but Yuri was really going to push hard to force the man off his ass to work hard once Yuuri returned; he wanted to beat Yuuri at his finest.

He had messaged Otabek when he had landed and they promised to Skype once he got back to the flat, which is what they were doing now. Yuri's hair had gotten slightly longer in two months and it was tied back in a ponytail. Otabek's hair hung in wet strands in front of his face, and he was shirtless, as he had just exited the shower when the Skype tone rang from his laptop. Yuri was definitely not staring at the water droplets clinging to Otabek's sharp jawline.

"How's Yuuri?" Otabek inquired.  
"Piggy is fine, according to Viktor. Still can't believe he escaped unscathed in his condition; he got lucky," Yuri replied.  
"Indeed," Otabek agreed.

Otabek only really knew Yuuri through Yuri, but he was concerned for his fellow competitor as well. No one should end up passing out backstage of a sports arena from overworking oneself. At least he was fine; that was the important part. With that aside, they talked about Worlds. They had about a month to prepare, and it was agreed upon that Otabek would not join Yuri in St. Petersburg this time either, as they both needed to focus on their own programs. As much as it hurt, each worked best when the other was not around as a potential distraction. If the way Viktor lost focus every time Yuuri was with him the rink proved anything, it was that having close friends on the ice could prove problematic. He wanted to see Otabek win a well-deserved medal, but Yuri wanted gold too. So did Viktor. And Yuuri. And Georgi. And JJ. And Phichit and Leo and Seung-gil and Guang Ho and Emil and Michele and every other skater converging onto Helsinki to hash it out and vie for glory. The world had gotten its first taste of Viktor in almost a year at the European Championships; Viktor was going to do everything he could now to win a 6th medal, or so Yuri thought. Or had the only man grew too senile and wanted desperately for Yuuri to win. Yuuri had a much stronger motivation to win big come March; Yuuri had already made one huge comeback. For sure he could do it again with Viktor at his side. Viktor had kept his end of the bargain though and had helped Yuri with both his programs. It might have seemed obvious whom Viktor favored, but it was not true. In fact he believed perhaps Viktor had invested more in helping Yuri than his fiancé. Either way, Yuri was going to aim for gold. They all were, and then they were just going to watch the chips fall into place and see who ends up on top. Otabek chose not to bring up the competition; there was too much tension tied to the subject between them. They continued to talk until there was nothing else to talk about. Blowing a kiss to Otabek, Yuri bid the man good-night and logged off of Skype. It was nearly 10 in the evening now, and he had practice tomorrow. He did not need to be at the rink that early but still, he was jet-lagged and exhausted and needed his sleep. So he did just that, cuddling with his cat plushies, and one particular teddy bear with oversized eyebrows.

It took another 9 days. When Yuuri finally stepped foot on ice again he was a bit thinner and a tiny bit pale, but he was smiling and waved and chatted with his rink mates as they rushed over to him and asked him how he felt and if he was okay and how glad they were to have him back. Yuri was not among them. After a few minutes Yakov screamed for order and the crowd dispersed as Viktor led Yuuri onto the ice and they began their warm-ups. There were to quads or elaborate combination spins that first day. After practice, when Yuuri was alone in the locker rooms Yuri walked up to him and punched his arm, but not with malicious intent. A startled Yuuri turned to Yuri while rubbing his arm. "You stupid piggy I expect you to keep up from now on; don't get lazy, or I'll beat your ass twice over!" Yuri threatened. To his surprise Yuuri pulled him into a hug, thanking Yuri for his kind words. Yuri let him. Yakov worked Yuuri harder which each passing day and gradually he was back to where he was before Korea. Viktor eventually stopped feeling the need to monitor Yuuri's every move and focused on his own practice. Viktor was still good; Viktor was still very good. Yuri almost thought Viktor still had a chance to win come March. But Yuri skated off his anger and determination, and he was determined to win gold.

He didn't.

Yuri looked about as sullen as if he were just told he could never eat Katsudon Pirozhkis ever again as he stood below Viktor. Yuri had gotten silver. But he lost to Viktor, his childhood idol, a man who was still considered the king of men's singles. Yuri would live. He would go back to Moscow, drown his sorrow with some good food and Nikolai's comforting words. He would go to Almaty and spend time with Otabek and let the disappointment fade; Yuri would live. Otabek was 5th, with Christopher above him. Viktor stood tall and proud on top with a 6th gold medal; honestly Yuri did not understand how the old man still had room for MORE medals. But Viktor's eyes lay to his left, to Yuuri and his bronze. It was not ideal, but it was a huge comeback from his disaster from the month before. Yuuri was back to his prime and was now back in the fight, armed to the teeth. Yuuri smiled up to his fiancé, gleaming and proud. He was perfectly happy with the result; he did so much better than he thought, and to be on the podium at Worlds after his flop at Four Continents…yes Yuuri almost broke into tears when the final standings were released. Yuuri was proud of Yuri too; the younger Russian had worked so hard the last month, put in so many extra hours; he deserved to stand above Yuuri. Viktor was proud of his students, one on each side. They were his legacy. Viktor knew he did not have much longer, but he knew his legacy would live on through the Yuris. And for him, that was enough. Still, Viktor was gleaming at yet another gold medal. At least it would put the playing mocking about his age to rest, for a time at least.

* * *

That night was supposed to be one of celebration; it was supposed to be joyful and wild, blurry around the edges from a drunken stupor. But Georgie had messaged Viktor soon after the competition, asking to meet with him privately. Georgi had placed 9th. Viktor met with his old friend in Tokoinranta Park. They sat together on a bench, overlooking the Eläintarhanlahti. Viktor could feel that something was off, and it was not just disappointment from missing the podium again. They sat in silence in the cold air for a time, before Viktor spoke first.

"Georgi what is it?" Viktor asked in their native language.  
"Vitya. I wanted to tell you first."  
"Tell me what? Georgi what ha-"  
"Viktor I'm retiring. I will not be competing in the Grand Prix."  
Viktor gasped and let his jaw drop. He turned, grabbed Georgi's arm and looked the younger straight in the eyes. They were ice blue like the water the faced, but they also seemed to have grey'd out, like the color of life itself had faded away. "I'm sorry WHAT?"  
"Yes Vitya. You heard correctly. I'm done."  
"But…but Georgi WHY? You're only 26! You still have a couple more years! Why stop now?! You've come so far?" Viktor stuttered, utterly shocked by his friend's bombshell. Before Yuri Viktor had been closest to Georgi. Every year since they were in their teens he took Georgi out on his birthday for a meal and stuffed him with sweets and whatever foods he wanted then. Viktor had known he had overshadowed his friend, even with his birthday. Viktor continued the small gesture, year after year as they remained rink mates. Even when Georgi had been dating Anya, Viktor continued to kidnap Georgi after practice on his birthday and they would share drinks and Viktor would always have a too big cake. Viktor always ended up eating most of it himself, but Georgi let him. Some years Mila or some other people joined, but Viktor was always there. And now Georgi was leaving.  
"Is it because we haven't been talking? Is it because of Anya?! Or because-"  
"Vitya stop."  
Viktor did.  
"This is my decision. This has nothing to do with you. I just don't enjoy competitive skating anymore. And I was never as good as you. I'll never be as good as you. But that is not my main point. I just…feel so tired and unhappy nowadays Vitya. The ice is not what it used to be for me. Maybe I can grow to love it again someday, but for the last few months it has only been cold and lifeless. I don't find joy in this anymore Vitya. I'm sorry."  
Viktor nodded. He understood.  
"Okay. Okay Georgi. If that is what you think is best, then take all the time you need."  
Viktor then pulled his friend into a hug.  
"I believe in you always, and I support your decision. If you ever want to return, even for fun, the ice is always open for you."  
Georgi nodded, returning the hug. "Thank you, Vitya. Congrats on the gold. Best of like to you and Yuuri as well. I expect a wedding invite."  
That got a laugh out of Viktor. They both rose from the bench and walked back to their hotel.

Georgi later broke the news to Yakov. The coach tried to protest at first, but after Yakov understood he could not change the man's mind he gave Georgi his blessings and best wishes as well. Mila and Yuri would find out eventually, but not tonight. Sara had won bronze, and though Mila had not made the podium she was still happily mingling among the other guests. Yuuri was not as terrified of the alcohol this time around, but he was just recently recovered still and limited his intake. Viktor joined him and they received congratulations. Chris was sober, which was a good sign in Viktor's book. Phichit whirled around taking selfies and other photos in remembrance of the occasion. Yuri was not around. Again he had fled with Otabek on the back of a rental bike. Sure it was immature but Yuri did not give a damn and Otabek was all too willing to play along. The night turned out to be alrightafterall, though Viktor could not get the bittersweet taste out of his mouth from the earlier news. He would inform Yuurilater, when the party ended and they would be freed to their hotel room.

* * *

 _ **THIS IS YOUR SMUT WARNING**_

* * *

That night, the bright silver moonlight streaming in through the windows illuminated their joined bodies as they made love under the sheets. This time it was slow and prolonged. Yuuri clung to Viktor with tears of joy and almost silent gasps as he felt Viktor push in harder, deeper. He could feel every inch of Viktor's cock against his walls, and the way he knew just where to push to press against his prostate. Viktor wanted Yuuri to remember this night; they had not been able to get intimate for over a month. Viktor continued to press open faced kisses against Yuuri's face and licked and sucked as to remember every dip and rise of Yuuri's body. It was the most intimate they had ever been. There was no lust filled screaming and groans this time. It was just Viktor whispering sweet nothings and praise while Yuuri replied with whispers of how much he loved Viktor. Viktor was worshipping his precious Katsudon; Viktor was so proud. So very, very proud of how far Yuuri had come, how he bounced back after a crippling illness. Yuuri was amazing, and Viktor continued to fall in love more with his fiancé. Viktor thought briefly of a small platinum band embedded with small diamonds in this bag. He bought it before they left Russia. If all went well, he would present it to Yuuri as Yuuri stood next to him on the podium with a shiny gold medal around his neck. As Yuuri's gasps came in quicker succession Viktor stopped thrusting and just pressed hard against Yuuri's prostate, rolling his hips until Yuuri's jaw dropped with a silent scream as he came all over his abs and Viktor's hand. Viktor was close too, but he pulled out and spread Yuuri's legs and faced his clenching hole. Viktor gave a small lick at first, and Yuuri almost shot off the bed if Viktor had not been holding him down. Throwing Yuuri's legs over his shoulders Viktor worked his tongue into Yuuri's twitching entrance. Yuuri moaned as he buried his fingers into Viktor's hair, pulling and shoving his face closer as Viktor moved his tongue within him. Yuuri's hips rolled on their own accord and he was hard again. Viktor kept working at his hole, moving his tongue in and out, licking around the rim and sucking; he just wanted to hear more of Yuuri's angelic moans. Eventually Yuuri was worked into a second orgasm. As Viktor sat up and watched Yuuri shudder Viktor had a tight grip on his cock as to not come just yet. To his surprise he soon found himself on his back, Yuuri sitting on top of him, grinding down. Viktor groaned at how sexy Yuuri looked above him. Yuuri began to grind down on Viktor. Soon it was too much and Viktor came in Yuuri's hand. He groaned so hard watching Yuuri lick his hand clean. They kept going to the early hours of the morning. They switched, tried different positions, expressed their love and poured their emotions out to each other. The moon still sparkled above as Viktor drew Yuuri closer after the younger pulled out and plopped next to the Russian. They both had tears in their eyes from too many raw emotions and beaming smiles. They drifted off to sleep soon after, Yuuri with his head on Viktor's chest and Viktor with both arms wrapped tightly around Yuuri. He would not forget this night for the rest of his life.

When news of Georgi's decision dropped about a week later, most the world was shocked, but his rink mates had already been informed and they understood and supported the man in all his future endeavors. As course, his fans were disappointed and Georgi's social media sites were bombarded with questions, asking for further explanations. Most understood. Most.

* * *

A/N: Hi guys! Hope you're enjoying the story so far. So, that plot twist huh? :D  
Feel free to leave a suggestion or requests in a review! PM me whenever! MWAH~


	10. Chapter 10 - MIDNIGHT

Once Worlds ended, the skaters finally had some time off. Assignments for the 2017 Grand Prix would be announced soon enough, but before that there were no other major competitions. It was time off to relax a bit, but most of it was spent investing countless more hours to perfect programs and elevate and polish skills when necessary. For Yuri, this was the time to add more quads. So far, Yuri could only land a Quad Salchow and Quad Toe-Loop. He needed to do more if he was going to beat out the competition. At Worlds, Viktor had defeated him by a full 3 points; that was too wide of a margin for Yuri's liking. It was an even larger margin than from when Viktor defeated him in Nationals. Unacceptable in Yuri's book; he was going to hand the old man his ass on a shiny golden platter. That was the only gold Viktor was ever going to get from now on if Yuri had it his way. Though his body was changing, it had yet to become too bothersome. Yuri was gaining height; he was becoming leaner, more muscular, but Yuri continued to rely on his combination spins and his flexibility. He would accommodate the changes when they came, but now was not the time. Though his skating was nearly flawless, it still was not good enough to beat Viktor. So the day after he returned to St. Petersburg, he found himself in the rink, demanding that Lilia increase the difficulty of his free program. Though she initially said no, resisting the angry cursing and threats, she gave in after about a week, seeing how determined Yuri was. So it began; Yuri knew what he had to do first. First, he was going to master Viktor's signature move: the quadruple flip.

It was much easier said than done.

If Yuri had injured himself somehow during the night he could not tell. He was so sore, but he had yet to land a quadruple flip. He almost expected it, seeing how he only recently started incorporating quads into this programs after his 2015 Junior Grand Prix win. Even in the junior competitions leading up to his senior debut did not include quads. The Quadruple Salchow he landed at age 12 was a one-time thing; Yakov had given him hell for it after, banning him from ever attempting quads again else Yakov quit as his coach. Besides, he had to prove to Viktor that he could indeed win a competition without quads, which he did. But now, after winning gold in his senior debut plus Viktor's return plus Katsuki Yuuri plus so many other factors, it was time to perfect those quads. He was on his own a lot of the time. During the day he did whatever Yakov wanted his to do, which did not include many quads. As much as his coach wanted the best for him, Yuri always felt that Yakov underestimated him. They all did; or maybe Yuri's arrogance and overconfidence was really getting out of hand. Landing a Triple Axel, Triple Toe-Loop combination Yuri gained speed to attempt the Quadruple Salchow, Triple Toe-Loop Combination from Agape. Clean landing. He then tried a Triple Toe-Loop, Half Loop, Triple Salchow. Slightly under-rotated but Yuri kept going. Quadruple Lutz. Hand on ice. More frustration. Yuuri could land it, so why couldn't he? Yuri kept going, a Biellmann spin here, a sit spin there, a Quadruple Salchow with a clean landing. Yuri knew he was best at his spins, and had yet to prove himself a jumper; still, sticking to his strengths would only get him so far. And that time was coming to a close. Feeding off his anger, Yuri sped up and wound himself up to attempt a Quadruple Flip. He flubbed, missing the landing and crashing onto the ice, skidding a little bit.

Yuri could feel the ice biting into his arms, sort of. He had been on the ice for hours, the cold numbing him out long ago. His eyes resembled the haze that covered his thoughts. The only light was his drive to do better. Little else mattered; it was unhealthy but one would be hard-pressed to find a single skater that ever had entirely healthy habits. What time was it anyways. Practice had ended at 7 that evening, and the moon was up high in the sky now. Yuri just rolled over and lay on the ice, staring at the dimmed fluorescent lights of the rink's ceiling, letting his thin black t-shirt and sports pants soak up the ice as it melted. His hair sprawled in many directions as his ponytail had fallen out quite some time ago. Yuri could feel the tears begin to form as the exhaustion and soreness finally began to set in. He was breathing heavily and his head throbbed; really how many hours have passed since Yakov left? Yuri had not even taken a break to eat dinner yet, which was scaring in that Yuri was already on the leaner side, even for a figure skater. He raised one arm to cover his eyes, no longer wanting to stare at the lights above. He could feel the warm tears down his cheeks as he tried to steady his breathing. The frustration was really getting to him. He had to be the best; he had tied his entire self-worth into figure skating. He had basically nothing without it, or so he thought. There were few other factors, or really only two. Grandpa, and most recently, Otabek. And his cat. But that was it really. He could vaguely hear the sound of skates approaching through the noise of his internal thoughts, but Yuri paid little attention to it. He assumed it to be Viktor, as it had been the last few days. Since Worlds two weeks ago Viktor and Yuuri had been around to practice with the rest of the Russian team. Viktor had made it his habit to check on Yuri, always being the one to eventually usher the younger off the ice. Twice he then followed Viktor to his apartment where Yuuri made him miso soup and the three would then watch some unrealistic anime late into the night. But all other times Yuri just went back to Lilia's flat and passed out on his bed, alone. "Ten more minutes Viktor," Yuri stated simply. The skates next to him did not move, nor did he hear a response. "Viktor I'm fine," Yuri stated, a bit more firmly. "Just get off the ice and I'll leave with you." Yuri hated sharing the ice with other people; it felt like he was sharing his own world to the unwelcome public. Yuri moved his arm and looked up. Viktor was there, with the same stern expression he maintained the last few days. But off behind Viktor at rink side leaning against the barrier was Otabek Atlin.

* * *

The last time Yuri met with Otabek prior to Worlds had been at Four Continents when Yuuri collapsed backstage. Otabek returned to Kazakhstan straight from Gangneung back to Almaty. There he stayed through the rest of February, all the way through March until reuniting at Worlds. It was tough, being apart but neither was willing to risk distractions when there was so much at stake. But that also meant Otabek was not there when Yuri turned 16. At it happened, Otabek ended up having some local charity event he needed to skate in that day and was unable to Skype with Yuri until late into the evening. Yuri spent his birthday practicing, as it should have been. He was pretty alone in his junior days, and his birthday was never that big of a deal. Mila and Viktor always told him happy birthday and smushed him in a hug. He got small gifts as well: a tiger-print phone case, cheetah print skate guards, cat-print hoodies, and accessories for his cat, and sometimes gift cards or food; when he was still with Nikolai he made Pirozhkis for Yuri. Yuri fortunately was able to make the trip to Moscow for his 15th birthday. But for his 16th, he was alone. There was Mila, but Yuri could only take so many doses of her madness. She offered to take him out to lunch, which Yuri declined. Politely. Georgi wished Yuri a happy birthday and gave the younger a gift card to Yuri's favorite online store, and he too offered to take Yuri out for a meal, but again Yuri declined. Viktor was in Japan, with Yuuri. Even Yakov was not there, as he was away for some junior tournament in Moscow for some of his younger skaters. Lilia was gone too, having to be at a ballet performance for some of her dancers; she would most likely not be returning to the apartment until well into the early hours of the next day. So Yuri spent his 16th birthday alone. Even though Yuuri and Viktor and some other skaters messaged him well wishes and all, Yuri was alone. So he skated, as if it were no different from any other day. Really skating was all he had. He skated until Mila and Georgi dragged him off with them at around 7 in the evening, on Yakov's orders. He returned to Lilia's flat. He took a shower, dressed in his favorite cheetah print onesie, and binge watched his favorite sports anime. He got his call from Otabek around 10 at night, when he was already dosing off on the couch. Otabek was still sweating and slightly red-faced as he had just finished his routine and was leaving the arena. He apologized for not being there with Yuri and wished him a happy 16th. Yuri replied that he understood. Skaters did not exactly have the most predictable convenient schedules. Otabek's performance had gone off without a hitch and he now had a few more sponsors. He really was the country's hero in many ways. The talked for hours on end it seemed. Yuri woke up the next morning still on the couch with a blanket over him. He did not remember saying good-bye to Otabek, so Yuri assumed he must have fallen asleep while they were still talking. Lilia must have found him like that, bent over his laptop. The laptop now sat closed on the coffee table. He got dressed, ate a banana, chugged down a cup of coffee, grabbed his bag, and headed to the rink.

When they finally met up at Worlds, Otabek handed Yuri a small box wrapped in cheetah print wrapping paper with a giant yellow bow on top. Opening it, Yuri glanced upon a small, expensive looking gold bracelet with several charms upon it. Lifting the bracelet carefully out of its case, Yuri looked more closely at the individual charms. The band itself was inscribed with "Юрий Плисецкий". One of the charms was a silver skate with a golden blade, one was of a golden cat with accented silver fur and whiskers, one was a miniature replica of his GPF gold medal, and one was a silver teddy bear. It was beautiful and Yuri had stuttered a thank you to Otabek, saying that the elder did not have to. The bracelet looked really expensive. Otabek replied that he wanted to, and again apologized for not being able to give it to him earlier. Unfortunately it was a bit too bulky to be worn with his skating costumes, but otherwise Yuri wore it everywhere. It was a symbol of his relationship with Otabek; Yuri treasured it and wore it proudly and showed it off often. Viktor had presented Yuri with custom leopard print Gucci sunglasses accented an elegant gold design along the wooden temple of the frame. The case that the pair came in seemed expensive enough alone, so Yuri did not even want to know how much it cost Viktor. But then again, Viktor was loaded. Viktor also bought him a protective phone case, just in case Yuri's current one gave out, as Yuri still had a habit of throwing his phone when angry. The case itself had painting of a tiger in neon colors on a black background. Yuuri gifted a large bag of Yuri's favorite Japan-exclusive junk food snacks. He and Viktor also presented a card, which they both had signed. It was overdue, but it was a good birthday. Well, it was until Yuri ended up in the hospital but still, Yuri felt loved. He missed the feeling.

But after Worlds, Otabek left him again, and Yuri returned to Russia with Viktor and Yuuri. So when he looked up and saw Otabek at rink side, to say he was shocked was an understatement.

And to say he was tired was an extreme understatement.

Viktor looked concerned, more so than usual. As Yuri fazed back into reality, and his senses returned he started to realize why. The stinging on his arms was more than from the ice; he had small scrapes up and down, some of them bleeding, as evidenced by some red splotches on the ice around him. He also felt wetness from his face, and upon touching the wet spot and pulling away, there was red water as well. And his ankle throbbed; it was not dislocated or broken. He knew that kind of pain from when he twisted his ankle back when he was 8, and this was not that level. Still, Yuri could hear his own heavy breaths and the warm tears leaking from his eyes. He realized what a mess he must seem like at that moment. Yuri tried to get up but could not, either because he was just that exhausted or because of the sharp pain in his ankle or something else entirely. Viktor must have heard the wince because he sighed and lifted Yuri straight off the ice without a protest. He skated off the ice and set Yuri on his feet again on the ground, supported by Otabek. Otabek led him to the bench and wordlessly removed Yuri's skates. It seemed he was done practicing for the night. After Otabek had finished taking off the skates, he slipped on Yuri's boots and packed everything up. "Can you walk?" the Kazakh asked. "Yeah. I think." Yuri replied as he tried to stand. But once pressure was put on the ankle he winced and Otabek immediately had a hand around Yuri's midsection to prevent him from falling forward. He eased Yuri back onto the bench. "No. You don't. You're injured. It's okay to admit that," Otabek said. Yuri shook his head and made a move to get up again. "No I'm f-"

"YURI PLISETSKY." Viktor all but yelled. Yuri looked up, eyes blown open. Viktor almost NEVER yelled. It only happened when he was really, really, REALLY upset. "Yuri do you want to hurt yourself so badly as to never skate again?" Viktor asked, stern and looking at Yuri with piercing frosty blue eyes. Yuri shook his head. "Yuuri almost hurt himself because he would not admit to his body's damage; are you about to insult him by putting yourself through the same mistake?" Again Yuri shook his head no. It was hard…not being perfect. Viktor's face softened then. He made his way to Yuri and crouched at eye-level with the younger Russian. "Yuri I just don't want to see you get hurt; I'm only angry because I'm watching you hurt yourself. You're a mortal athlete; people and especially athletes can get hurt. And it's okay. So please, just take a rest and wait for your body to heal. It is better to be safe than sorry, okay Yurochka?" Viktor said, blue eyes pleading. Yuri nodded. He did not apply verbally. Viktor nodded in return and indicated with his head to Otabek before standing back up and grabbing Yuri's bag and walking toward the exit. Yuri was about to ask what was going on when Otabek swopped in and lifted the younger up easily. Instinctively Yuri wrapped his arms around Otabek's neck to keep from falling and rested his head on Otabek's shoulder. Otabek followed Viktor to the parking lot where Viktor was loading Yuri's bag into the trunk of his BMW i8*. Viktor opened the backseat door and Otabek ducked in with Yuri still in his arms. Viktor moved to the driver's seat and drove away. It was dead silent save for Yuuri's J-pop playing from the radio. From the dashboard Yuri saw that it was already almost midnight. And he still had no idea how and why Otabek was in St. Petersburg without telling Yuri first. But those were questions for the next day. Yuri knew he was going to be confined to the couch the next few days at least. At least Otabek was there to keep him company for however long he stayed. Viktor parked in the lot of Lilia's apartment complex. He again moved to Otabek's side and opened the door for the two. Adjusting his grip on Yuri, who clung to him on his lap the entire ride, he exited and walked toward the building, Viktor not far behind with Otabek's luggage and Yuri's skate bag. This late at night there was no one in the lobby so they rode the elevator to the proper floor. Viktor knocked on the door. A few seconds later Lilia opened the door, raising an eyebrow at the sight. She tsk'd, deducting quickly what must have happened and ushers them all in. Viktor stays for a short amount of time chatting with Lilia about Yuuri but leaves soon after, Yuri murmuring a thanks and Viktor nodding in understanding. Lilia soon left for her own room, leaving just Otabek and Yuri snuggled together on the coach.

"You need to get cleaned up." Otabek pointed out.  
"…oh." Yuri had forgotten about the wounds for a time. Otabek moved them to the restroom adjacent to Yuri's room. In the mirror, Yuri could finally see the damage. His hair was mushed and tangled, sticking to his neck and fraying off in all directions. He had bags under his puffy red eyes. There were a few small smidges of blood from an abrasion on his left cheek. His arms had similar abrasions. There were a lot of bruises too, and Yuri could feel more on his legs and his feet. Otabek first grabbed a towel and wet it under warm water and wiped away any traces of blood. Otabek pulled the first aid kit from under the sink and set about disinfecting all the cuts. He wrapped them up with bandages. He then moved to pull down Yuri's pants, leaving the younger sitting on the counter top in just his black boxers. His legs were littered in bruises of varying damage. Otabek also peeled away Yuri's socks, and the black and blue bruised ankle looked horrible. Yuri was sure he was going to be banned from the ice for at least a week now. But fortunately there was no damaged skin or open wounds there. As Otabek checked the bruises and wiped them down as well, Yuri ran a hand through his now shoulder length hair, trying to detangle the mess a bit. He did not make much progress. Satisfied that Yuri was cared for sufficiently Otabek stood back up and pressed a kiss to Yuri's temple. Yuri's eyes fluttered shut from the gesture. Moving them back into the bedroom Otabek handed Yuri a clean pair of boxers, sweats, and a t-shirt from his cabinet. He then returned to the living room and grabbed his own luggage, dragging it back to Yuri's room. He changed as well; they had seen each other naked enough times in the locker rooms of competitions to not even blink. He slid in next to Yuri in bed as the blonde set himself on Otabek's broad chest.  
"Night Beka."  
"Night Yura."  
They were both out within minutes. Questions could wait until the sun rose again.

* * *

Viktor returned to the apartment and ran a hand over his face. Yuri was overworking himself past the point of injury. Viktor was very worried. Especially now, right after his Yuuri suffered from a body malfunction, he was worried Yuri was really going to go too far and end his skating career prematurely. Viktor himself had shattered his ankle at 18; he got lucky. Yuri might not be so lucky if he were to undergo the same mistakes. He messaged Otabek a few days before, asking if Yuri had spoken to him about any injuries. Yuri had not. Viktor could tell something was off from watching Yuri practice, but he kept his mouth shut so that Yuri might come to him first. He did not. And he knew Yuri would not listen to him. But Yuri would listen to Otabek; desperate times called for desperate measures. He updated Otabek on his suspicions and the man booked a flight over that same night. It was up to Otabek now to talk more sense into Yuri. Viktor had faith, now that Yuri had many more people to care for him in the absence of Nikolai in Yuri's everyday life. With all that Yuri was currently struggling with, the more help, the better.

Viktor slipped off his coat and made his way to the bedroom. Makkachin was already sprawled across the floor in the corner on his back, fast asleep. Yuuri was in bed asleep already, the reading light still on. It seemed the younger had fallen asleep while waiting for Viktor to return. Viktor quietly pulled out his phone and snapped a photo; Yuuri looked absolutely adorable, even with messy hair and a small trail of drool leaking out the corner of his mouth. Viktor then moved to take of Yuuri's glasses and pried the book out of his hand, setting both on the nightstand. Viktor then changed into sweatpants and a long sleeved night shirt. Turning off the light Viktor slipped into bed and pulled Yuuri to him, who subconsciously complied and snuggled against Viktor with a few nonsense sleepy murmurs. All was not right within the world, and there was much work to be done still. He would need to check with Yuri in the morning, but for now, Viktor was content to be lulled to sleep next to his beloved fiancé.

*So apparently after major victories the Russian government gives its athletes cars for "completing their assigned task" or something like that. Viktor very well fits that category, thus the luxury car.

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for reading! As always, comments and suggestions are always welcome


	11. Chapter 11 - Closing Chasms

A/N: This chapter got angsty. I'm sorry. I'm fresh off of Goblin Eps 15 and 16 and the ANGST AND TEARS KILLED ME. For those who haven't watched Goblin, even if you're not a Kdramatic, I HIGHLY recommend it. It is so well written. My friend and I just spent an hour discussing the drama and searching for plot holes and tying things together; no plot holes to be found. It was SO good. Alright. On to the story.

Yuri would rather skate naked at his next competition than have this conversation with Otabek. He learned that Otabek had dropped everything and flew to St. Petersburg as soon as he could. Yesterday evening Viktor had messaged him after practice ended. Apparently, Viktor had been worried for a while, as Yuri had been shutting everyone out. So that evening when he called, Otabek packed a suitcase and just left. Caught a flight, endured more than 5 hours in the air, landed, and Viktor drove them straight to the rink. Otabek watched as Yuri ran through his jumps and spins, noting how much sloppier they were than usual. He watched as Yuri crashed onto the ice. It looked as painful as it ended up being. Yuri was ashamed, because Viktor was right. He was doing a disservice to Yuuri by overworking himself past the point of injury. Still, he felt worse for dragging Otabek to Russia, just because of his own mistakes. Yuri was of course very happy to see him, but still, there was a heavy cloud of guilt and despair that hung over Yuri's head. Otabek had woken up first the morning after, Yuri following soon after, woken up by the shifting on the bed. He did not turn around to face Otabek; he couldn't.  
"Yura. I know you're awake." Yuri still did not turn.  
"Yuri. Look at me." Otabek was serious, as he used Yuri's actual name this time. Yuri finally sat up and turned to face Otabek, but kept his eyes glued to the sheets. Otabek gently tilted Yuri's chin up to look him in the eye; Yuri blushed and looked away.  
"Look Beka I know you're angry with me. I know I-"  
"Yuri I'm not angry AT you."  
" _Oh."_ Yuri thought.  
"Yura you could have seriously gotten hurt. And now, don't apologize. I want to be here. I'd rather lose a couple days of practice to make sure you're fine." Yuri was not sure how to respond really, now that Otabek had alleviated is biggest concerns.  
"I'm sorry."  
"Don't Yura. I can't blame you. Just be more careful from now on."  
"Okay." Yuri replied. " _For you Beka,"_ he added in his mind. "okay," he added more shakily, tears starting to fill his eyes. Goddamn teenage hormones. Yuri looked away and tried to hold back the flood. It didn't happen, and once Otabek had dragged Yuri to his chest for a hug, the dam broke and Yuri just sobbed. Along with the physical injury, Yuri had just been so drained, and alone. Now that Viktor had Yuuri he did not pay as much attention to the younger Russian. And Yuri did not really have other rink mates near his age. Yuri had really, really, really missed his Beka without even knowing it. He had stuffed all his emotions into a box that finally gave out, and now all his feelings of anxiety and loneliness, fear and anger and frustration and worthlessness, sadness and self-hatred, all came flooding back. And those hurt infinitely more than the physical pains. "Yura, what's wrong?"  
Yuri shook his head against the wet spot he formed on Otabek's shirt.  
"I missed you."  
Otabek sighed and ran a hand through Yuri's hair, stroking it and comforting Yuri. "I missed you too Yura. You had me worried because you haven't been messaging me as much. You haven't been responding."  
Indeed Yuri had not initiated a chat for a while now. "I did not want to bother you."  
"For you Yura, you are never a bother."  
"How can you say that? I'm loud and I curse and I'm awkward and I don't get along well with people; I'm a punk aren't I?" Yuri said, moving out of Otabek's arms. As much as he hated to admit it, his nicknames got to him. Yuri had a difficult past, and his walls were not that thick. He hid behind his uncaring bratty persona because it was the only way he survived. Of course, the wall was crumbling under such immense pressure. Such as now, with the closest person to him other than Nikolai. Viktor too, but Yuri kept his mouth shut for Yuuri's sake; he felt too guilty to ask for Viktor's attention away from Yuuri.

"Oh Yura, no. No you are not just a punk. You are so much more. Don't let other people get to you so much. I know you are so much more than the tough exterior you try to hold all the time. It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. It makes us human. It's what I love about you."  
" _Wait, WHAT?"_ Yuri's mind now spun 60000 miles an hour. The L-word had been uttered. Otabek tangled with fingers with Yuri's bracelet hand, bringing it up their eye level. "This represents how far you've come, Yuri. You aren't alone. You have Viktor and Yuuri at the very least. And you'll always have me, even when I can't be with you in person. It's okay to talk to us when you feel weak, because you're not weak Yura. You've had to endure so very much, had to work to very hard to be where you are. A moment of vulnerability is not going to make us think any less of you." Otabek said, looking straight into shiny green eyes. Yuri felt different, crying and being vulnerable in front of Beka. The last time it happened was after the GPF, when he exited the ice and Otabek had hugged him backstage, and Yuri let him. Otabek did not hold it against him then, and he wasn't now. So Yuri let himself cry it out; it had been so many years since he last let himself break down entirely and just cry. He let Otabek pull him back into a hug, let the other try and comfort him and tell him that he was alright and that he was going to stay. Otabek was going to stay.  
"Okay," Yuri choked.  
"Hmm?"  
"Okay Beka. Okay. I believe you."  
"Okay."  
Otabek then lifted Yuri to face him again, the younger on his lap. He used his free hand to wipe the tear streaks away and leaned in to kiss away the tears, moving down to meet Yuri's lips. He left enough time between so that Yuri could turn away if he wanted to. Yuri didn't. Otabek kissed Yuri gently on the lips. He returned for several pecks as Yuri's eyes fluttered shut and he returned the kisses. Yuri's arms eventually went around Otabek's neck, tangling in his black hair as they kept kissing. Otabek had his arms settled around Yuri's waist to keep him steady, but Yuri soon leaned back and Otabek followed until Yuri was laying on the bed, Otabek still laying kisses from above. When Yuri finally pulled away, he let Otabek lay his head on his chest, Yuri's arms cradling him. Otabek could hear Yuri's heartbeat (PUNS) and understood how tired Yuri must have felt feeling never enough (MORE PUNS). Yuri felt comforted and safe, Otabek in his arms, against the soft pillows, among the morning sunlight starting to stream in through the windows. Neither would really mind waking up like this, every morning, pressed against each other. After a while Otabek lifted himself off of Yuri and this both got up, Yuri wiping away any remnants of his tears, a smile now plastered on his face. Otabek easy matched that smile. Yuri knew he looked like a mess; Otabek thought he was beautiful anyways. He lifted Yuri into his arms and headed into the bathroom. Stripping them both, he led Yuri into the shower where they both washed off from the night before. Yuri then found himself redressed in comfortable sweats and an oversized t-shirt and set on the coach. His cat crawled its way over and settled on his lap as Yuri lazily scrolled through his phone. It was only 7:30 in the morning, but years of skating made it a habit to wake up so early feeling fully rested. Jetlag had not seemed to catch up with Otabek yet, as he was in the kitchen preparing breakfast for the two of them. They ate on the coach, Yuri constantly swiping away to keep the cat off of their food. There was not much else to be said. They made small talk, Yuri talking about practice, Otabek talking about his family. They had no plans for the day. Otabek rewrapped Yuri's ankle, then letting it rest on his lap as he pressed ice against it. Yuri kept complaining about Yakov and Lilia and Viktor and Otabek just listened. It seemed as if they were normal people for once. They watched a couple movies, scrolled through social media, took a couple selfies and such.

Around noon Otabek suggested that they go to the rink. Yuri was not going to skate but still, they could visit Viktor and catch up once the skaters took their lunch break. Returning to the bedroom Yuri changed into a V-neck t-shirt and threw on a loose knit weave grey sweater and a leather jacket over a pair of black jeans, which Otabek had to help him into. Otabek changed into a pair of ripped navy jeans, a button-down and a maroon leather jacket accented with small silver studs as well as his leather fingerless gloves. He also helped Yuri braid part of his hair and drew the rest into a partial high ponytail. Yuri grabbed the sunglasses Viktor had gifted him. Yuri called an Uber and they rode the short distance to the rink. Otabek still refused to let Yuri walk, so he was piggy-backed into the rink to the coos and stares of some people. Yuri was embarrassed and a little flushed, but Otabek glared at anyone who dared try and make any statements. Making his way to rink side he sat Yuri on a bench. Otabek then left, saying he would return in a bit. Viktor and Yuuri skated over to acknowledge their entrance. Viktor jokingly told Yuri that he could play coach. Yuri took his job seriously though. During Viktor's private session Yuri seemed even worse than Yakov, not only because he was pointing out the mistakes and pushing Viktor to try harder but he embedded insults into every cutting statement. By the time Viktor exited he grabbed his jacket and collapsed on the bench next to Yuri, mockingly stating that Yuri had wounded him very much. That earned him more screams from Yuri. Soon after Yuuri came over and handed Viktor his sneakers. Otabek soon returned as well, with a pair of crutches so that Yuri could make his own way around. It was greatly appreciated. They all exited the rink and left in Viktor's car for Viktor's favorite restaurant. It served traditional Russian cuisine and Viktor had been a regular patron from even before he started skating. Upon entrance, Viktor was greeted warmly and ushered in to their usual table. Yuri had been there 3 or 4 times before, so he was somewhat familiar with the place. Viktor ordered for all of them, knowing what was seasonal and all. A bottle of expensive wine was opened; Yuri was pleasantly surprised when he was offered a glass as well. Yuuri abstained, just in case. There were only a few others in the tiny restaurant beside themselves. The lingered around for a solid two hours over their dessert coffees. Viktor asked how Yuri and Otabek were doing and if they needed anything. They talked about anything besides skating really. It was a mutual rule that they leave rivalries on the ice.  
"So you two are dating right?" Viktor pressed with a smug grin on his face.  
Yuri and Otabek both blushed, and gave each other a look.  
"Actually yes. We are," Otabek replied. Yuri gaped a little, giving Otabek the opening to press a quick peck. Yuri blushed more, hiding in Otabek's shoulder.

* * *

Yuuri smiled knowingly. Yuuri himself was still kind of like that. First when he and Viktor were unofficially dating, and even now that they were "engaged". After Barcelona and Viktor's impulsive outburst they never talked about the statement, but as the relationship had grown both assumed that they were. The rest of the world certainly did. And it was not like it was a bad thing; actually, it saved them both a lot of trouble, not having to plan for a proper proposal and all. He had watched Otabek and Yuri grow closer the last few months. He had noticed Yuri messaging Otabek and scroll through his pages when they took breaks from skating. He noticed how close they were in life, in their selfies, through their public messages; Yuuri was really happy that Yuri found someone. To find love was really an experience that varied from person to person, but it was truly an extraordinary journey. Yuuri knew; he ended up with the man he once only dreamed of meeting in reality. Yuri found the one who looked past his walls and loved him for who he truly was and could support him through all the difficulties that Yuri never spoke of. Yuuri knew, but he too knew that he would not be able to pass Yuri's walls fully. Yuri was just too well guarded. His mind was surrounded with walls upon walls, barbed wire and electric fences and moats filled with monster and armed guards at every corner. Yet Otabek walked straight through it seemed, which amazed Yuuri for a while. But love worked in strange ways.

* * *

Yuuri could hear Viktor yelling from the side of the rink as he landed a Triple Lutz, Triple Toe-Loop combination. His hand had touched the ice. " _.ENOUGH."_ Yuuri screamed at himself in his head. Ever since Worlds Viktor had been treating him more delicately, as if Yuuri were to break the moment Viktor pushed him too hard and Yuuri crashed again. Yuuri knew he made a mistake back then. Somewhere in the back of his mind he still feared that he would never be good enough for Viktor. Sure the Russian always said he was proud of Yuuri's growth, but that growth seemed to have hit a plateau. Trying another Double Axel, Double Toe, Triple Toe, that too had an unclean landing. Yuuri was recovering still it seemed, though his illness had cleared well before Worlds. Worlds was nearly two weeks ago now, and Viktor and he had settled back to their training routines in Russia. Viktor was still his coach, but it seems their emotional ties were starting to tangle that relationship. Viktor needed to push him harder, and Yuuri knew it. And whenever Yuuri tried to push for that Viktor seemed so hesitant. _"You're not going to lose me to the ice Viktor_ " Yuuri wanted to tell him. Viktor was twitching from the sidelines, looking ever so terrified that Yuuri would take one bad fall too many and die. He seemed to wince at every blunder. Yuuri gave Viktor a look telling him that he was okay and rounded into a Quadruple Salchow. It was landed cleanly. It was followed by some step sequence and a few spins, which led to the finale. Viktor held his breath as Yuuri's feet left the ice and Yuuri began to rotate in the air in a Quadruple Flip. Yuuri landed, then fell on his side.

"YUURI!" Viktor exclaimed.

Yuuri put a hand up, indicating that he was fine. It was once said that a skater was defined by falls; apparently bruises built character. Yuuri got back up and rubbed the ice off of his clothes and pushed his hair back. He had so much catching up to do over the next few months. He exited the ice and put his skate guards on and took up his water from Viktor, a very concerned looking Viktor. "Viktor I'm fine. I'm not going to break from small falls like that," Viktor only nodded, secretly proud of Yuuri was standing up for himself. "Okay Yuuri. Okay. But tell me if anything feels off." Yuuri nodded. Small things like that helped to ease Viktor's fears. Yuuri practiced another hour or so before Viktor called him off the ice. It was only 5 but Viktor thought the younger had enough for the day. Yuuri complied; it was going to take some time before he convinced Viktor to really push him. He was just...so careful around Yuuri now. All the time. He did not tackle Yuuri anymore, and he insisted to carry Yuuri's bag to and from the car each way, and he got up to get things for Yuuri instead of Yuuri stretching around for things. Even during sex Viktor spent more time preparing him, did not grab at his hair, leave dark colored bruises or go hard enough to eliminate Yuuri's ability to walk the following morning. And Yuuri was dead sick of it. He really needed to prove to Viktor that he was FINE. As sweet as it was that Viktor cared for him so much and fussed over his health and well-being, Yuuri really, really, really needed Viktor to stop it. So Yuuri hatched a plan in his mind to finally break the spell.

* * *

 _ **Smut Warning**_

* * *

A few days later Viktor Nikiforov woke up the the feeling of someone grinding down on him. He opened his eyes to find Yuuri on top of him, hair slicked back and naked, grinding down on Viktor who was in nothing but his boxers, which was quickly gaining a dark spot as Viktor leaked in response to Yuuri's minstrations. Yet when Viktor tried to move his arms to stop Yuuri, he found that both his hands had been locked to the bedposts with a pair of handcuffs. The key was on a thin chain around Yuuri's neck. " _Kinky,"_ Viktor thought. He begged Yuuri to release him but the other refused, continuing to tease Viktor to the point of insanity, Viktor was hard, and watching Yuuri's flushed face above him and seeing his hard-on were not helping the situation. He cursed in Russian, thinking in his mind how hard he was going to drill the devious vixen into the mattress the moment he got free. Yuuri kept going, eventually using his own hand to reach completion as he squirted across Viktor's abs. Viktor groaned, thrusting up more to try and get Yuuri to help him finish, Of course Yuuri didn't. Viktor finally had enough and shot his legs up, making

Yuuri gasp and fall forward. Viktor grabbed the key with his teeth and snapped the thin chain from Yuuri's neck.  
Yuuri smirked.  
"You win Vitya~~~" Yuuri whispered as he took the hey back and unlocked Viktor form the headboard.  
Then he laughed and Viktor flipped them around immediately and shoved Yuuri into the mattress.  
"Oh you are so going to need to cancel practice for the next MONTH when I'm done with you," Viktor whispered in a low husky voice.  
Yuuri moaned, rutting up to rub his butt against Viktor's hard-on. The elder all but growled and used on hand to pin Yuuri's arms above his head and he stared done at the gorgeous flushed face looking back from beneath him. He kicked off his boxers, grabbed the lube off the bedside table, slicked up his fingers and shoved one into Yuuri's bum. One quickly turned to two to three, Yuuri thrashing beneath him the entire time. Viktor leaned down, whispering his deepest dirtiest thoughts in Yuuri's ear as he worked him open. Yuuri felt so good, his mind lost in a haze of Viktor's whispers. Viktor soon lost patience and slicked up his cock and shoved himself the hilt in Yuuri. Yuuri cried out in pain and surprise and Viktor was sure he spotted a tear, but he was too far in to back down now. He gave Yuuri a few minutes to calm down and adjust. When Yuuri nodded he began with a few shallow thrusts but soon sped up. Yuuri was all but screaming in pleasure as Viktor pounded away above him, aiming perfectly at his prostrate nearly every time. It was so good, as Yuuri lay smushed against the sheets, drool leaking from the side of his mouth and unable to formulate coherent thoughts of any sort, aside from chanting Viktor's name like a mantra. Yuuri prided himself on his stamina, but after two rounds Viktor was still going above him. Yuuri was so sensitive, feeling Viktor's earlier release leaking from his hole. After coming a second time Viktor pulled out, head shining with cum. But he wasn't done as he shoved his fingers back into Yuuri and tapped at his prostate shoving Yuuri off the cliff screaming into another blinding orgasm. Viktor finally released his wrist and Yuuri rolled over to see Viktor licking his own cum off his dirtied fingers. Yuuri faded out soon after, still able to feel the cum rolling down his thighs, _Mission Accomplished._

When Yuuri finally came to the first thing he noticed was the warm water around him. Next was the hard chest behind him and the chin that rested on top of his head. He was in the bathtub, surrounded by bubbles. The bathroom smelled of raindrops and roses, of a rainy spring day.  
"Yuuri?"  
Yuuri shifted in Viktor's grasp, confirming that he was awake. Viktor drew Yuuri closer to him, letting out a sigh or two as Yuuri flinched a bit. "I'm sorry; I went too far tonight," Viktor said with a voice edged with horror.  
 _"No,"_ Yuuri thought. He lifted his head to face Viktor, raising a hand to draw Viktor's lips to his own. Viktor was hesitant but returned the kiss with all the love he could muster. Yuuri shook his head again. "No Viktor, I wanted this to happen."  
"What?"  
"Viktor I'm fine; I'm not going to break; you don't need to walk on eggshells with me. I enjoyed tonight, okay? You did not hurt me. I'm FINE," Yuuri said sternly, making sure that Viktor was looking at him in the eyes. Viktor's blue eyes were so full of worry. But he sagged and nodded, internalizing Yuuri's words.  
"You're right Yuuri. I'm sorry."  
Yuuri shook his head.  
"Stop apologizing Vitya. You were worried; I get it. I'd worry for you too."  
Viktor smiled, nuzzling into Yuuri's hair again as Yuuri reached an arm up to cup Viktor by the back of his neck.  
They stayed until the water was too cold. The slipped back under the sheets Viktor had changed out, Viktor caging Yuuri from behind as they drifted off to sleep, hands entwined, rings shining in the dim moonlight. All was well again.

Still, Yuuri did not go to practice the following morning.


	12. Chapter 12 - The Distances Between

In a decently sized Moscow apartment a figure was at a desk, three laptops open and processing millions of lines of code a minute. The figure was tense, waiting to see if all its efforts were going to be worthwhile. Yuuri had recovered, which was not to plan. The figure was rather amused with how its PhD in computer science was now being used; still, it proved a worthy skill. The world would never suspect that this great achievement was pulled off so effortlessly; they world would be at a loss as to who the great perpetrator was, and there would be guesses and accusations. They would all be wrong of course. One laptop soon stopped, a box popping up. Then the second did the same, then the third. As the laptops began to beep and flash alerts and error boxes, the figure ran a hand through its hair and gripped it in frustration. Seemed the security measures were much stronger than initially anticipated. Nevertheless, it could be done. The figure tapped a couple keys, and the computers began their mindless calculations again.

* * *

Viktor slammed his phone down and looked up with shock. Yuuri's jaw would be on the floor if it could detach. Yuri looked equally stunned. Viktor looked at Yakov, back at his phone, to Yuri's phone, to Lilia, to Yuuri and his phone, back to his own phone; Viktor was sure he was reading the words correctly. The Grand Prix assignments had been announced, and Viktor was ready to punch every deity that did or did not actually exist. This had never happened before; it had NEVER happened before.

It was the end of June; the Grand Prix assignments were sent out this morning. When Yuuri and Viktor arrived at the rink, Yuri was already there with Lilia and Yakov. And there was Otabek too. After the incident with Yuri Otabek made some arrangements with his coach back in Almaty and with Yakov to train in Russia. He left Yuri late April, stayed in Almaty for the better part of May. He returned to Russia the 2nd Tuesday of May, armed with two suitcases for the stay. Yuri was happy to say the least, as he took up the spare room in Lilia's flat again. Otabek was a master in calming the angry Russian tiger as Viktor put it. He would have to return to Almaty in August, but the new couple did not think of that too much. Yuri just wanted to focus on the time he had with Otabek now; they would consider the future only when they really had to.

When they had all reached the rink around 8 in the morning, they all opened their assignment emails at once, for dramatic effect if one asked Viktor. It was dead silent for a minute or two as everyone read through their emails. Then the chatter started as they all asked each other where they were assigned. Then silence, as the facts lined up and sunk in. Viktor was given the Tropheé de France and Rostelecom Cup. Yuri was given the Cup of China and Skate Canada. Yuuri was given Skate America and NHK Trophy. They did not share any assignments. They did not share a single event at all leading up to the Grand Prix Final. They would not face off against each other until they reached the very end. It was a great climax per say, but the reality was that they would not be seeing each other very often due to the travel arrangements. Otabek would share Skate America with Yuuri and Tropheé de France, but none with Yuri. It seemed that the stars had aligned to maximize the competition between them, and to keep lovers apart. The first event would not be until near the end of October, which was still about four months away; that would be sufficient time to prepare. And still, the separation was a blessing for Viktor. At least he did not have to feel the need to hold back for his students. He was going to give it his all and meet them at Finals. Same went for Yuuri. Yuri too, but he was silently conflicted on who to root for with the one Otabek shared with the other two. He just decided to leave it to the stars as well; they would all make it to the final. He felt that much was going to hold true. They were all going to do their best, and meet at the finals, which were being held in Gelsenkirchen, Germany this year. The ISO decided to reuse the rink from there, from the days where competitions from the Grand Prix were still held in Germany. It seemed ironic, as the results of the final might cause an uproar enough to be dubbed WWIII. Yes, it would be interesting indeed.

"Looks like I'll have to wait until December to hand your ass to you old man," Yuri snarked at Viktor as they laced up their boots. Viktor smiled back brightly with a slightly murderous glint in his icy blue eyes. "Sure Yuri! I look forward to watching you try!" Viktor replied, voice heavy with sarcasm and amusement. Otabek raised an eyebrow, and Yuri swore he saw the corner of his mouth curl. Mila snorted behind the two of them. She shared Rostelecom with Viktor and NHK with Yuuri. "Oh finals is going to be SO interesting this season. Let's see if the old man is even going to make it to finals." Mila smirked. Yuri burst out laughing at Viktor's indignant look as he dramatically clutched his heart and fell over on the bench. Yuuri smiled next to him as the Russian ended up in his lap. It seemed Yuuri agreed do as he patted the top of Viktor's head.

"GET YOUR LAZY ASSES ON TO THE ICE THIS INSTANT!" Yakov screamed from rink side. They all scrambled out of the locker room onto the ice to begin their warm-up rounds. There was much work to be done.

* * *

Yakov pushed them hard, long past the point of exhaustion for all of them. They finally concluded practice at 9 in the evening, and Viktor drove the four of them back to his and Yuuri's apartment, as they had agreed to host dinner that evening in celebration of the assignments being released. It seemed all of them had mixed feelings on the matter. As Yuri settled into the coach with his head in Otabek's lap as the elder watched TV, Yuri began to announce the posts of other skaters as the came up. Phichit had Skate America. So did Leo. Christophe was going to be in Paris as well, along with Arthur and Emil. Minami had qualified and would join Yuuri at NHK, which made Yuuri happy. The younger Japanese was very talented indeed and Yuuri looked forward to sharing the ice with him. Seung-Gil had NHK as well, and Guang Hong was going to be at Skate Canada. Sara and Michele were both going to be at Skate Canada too. And to no one's surprise, so was JJ. Yuri let out a long string of curses damning the man to the hell known as the Russian winter. But Yuri vowed to defeat him handily this time; no one else in the room had doubts that he would. Viktor had a faint moment of sadness, thinking of how Georgi was no longer around to join in the chatter for Grand Prix. After Worlds Georgi had returned to Moscow, and has remained off the grid since then. Viktor let his friend have his space. As Viktor and Yuuri finished up in the kitchen and called the other two to the dinner table they chatted over the other competitors and their programs. Of course no one brought up competing against each other, because that would have definitely caused irreversible tension and awkwardness among them. Some food was tossed around along with the playful banter and among laughs and snarky remarks and Yuri's curses whenever he was teased about Otabek. The lingered over beers and chocolates for a few hours afterwards. In the coming months things were really going to come to a head as they prepared for competition. They were all seasoned skaters and had experienced high levels of stress but still, none were ever completely prepared. There would be tears, break-downs, angry outburst, and so on. But God forbid there be any injuries. Viktor so badly wanted to share the ice with the Yuris; injuries at such a crucial peak time would be devastating to all of them. It was the end of June. The four months to come were going to break them, but if they survived, then they were going to be poised to have the world at their feet.

After Otabek and Yuri left in their Uber Viktor helped to clear the table and stick the dishes in the dishwasher as Yuuri rearranged the displaced furniture in their living room. It was late, past midnight and they were all going to have to wake up tomorrow for practice. Yuuri indicated to Viktor that he was going to take a shower. As Yuuri stood under the warm spray he let his thoughts wander. Of course he was saddened at the prospect of spending time away from Viktor. Ever since Viktor had showed up at the Onsen last year, they had practically been inseparable, save for Nationals. But it could not be helped. Yuuri had to do his best; he had to win. The competition only got harder with each passing year; Yuuri had to win, for himself. And he had to win for Viktor. He had a lot to prove. Especially since Four Continents. His bronze at Worlds was a start, but Yuuri was going to have to practice more; he was going to have to spin faster, land cleaner, jump higher, bend lowers, gesture more elegantly; Yuuri was going to claw his way out of the hole that began with his failed Grand Prix from two years past. The journey since then had ben bumpy, but Yuuri had been steadily rising out of his dark pit with Viktor at his side. Viktor. Viktor was Yuuri's blessing. The man he once only wished to share the ice with now showered him with love and affection, saying that HE looked up to YUURI. He had beaten his free skate record even. Viktor became a human for Yuuri, but that was not a bad thing. If the gold rings did not prove so enough, Viktor loves Yuuri. Sure Yuuri did not end up being what Viktor initially thought, but that only gave the Russian an opportunity to fall in love all over again. And Viktor had been everything Yuuri expected and more, and Yuuri too fell in love all over again. His childhood dream to skate the same ice, to be at Viktor's level as an equal, was nearly met. Not quite, as Yuuri only beat the free skate record, but Viktor always teased Yuuri, saying that it only counted if ALL of Yuuri's dream came true. That meant he had to win the Grand Prix Final; Yuuri had to beat Viktor to reach his dream. Yet it did not seem to be his dream anymore. As stated before, Yuuri no longer really wanted to beat Viktor. As long as he was allowed to stay close to Viktor, Yuuri was happy. Yuuri was so lost in his on musing that he did not hear Viktor enter the bathroom.

Viktor's mind drifted as he thought of the last few months. The last year, he had watched Yuuri grow. He watch Yuuri turn from an idealized memory into a different reality into his fiancée. Viktor briefly considered buying a ring, as he was pretty confident he was going to propose before the year ended. He had half a mind to pop the question the moment they got on the podium. Even if Viktor was going to lose to Yuuri, he still wanted to stand with him on the podium, just one more time. Viktor was debating if he should retire or not. Perhaps he would. Or maybe he would stick around for one more session. But those were thoughts for later. Yuuri was the muse he was missing for so many years. Who knew his free program would draw Yuuri to him, but Viktor was so glad he did. It was by chance and fate alone they met again; Loop, Lutz, and Axel were guardian angels in a sense. When Viktor returned to Hasetsu after the Grand Prix, he gave the triplets a dozen or so signed and personalized posters and took selfies with them. It made their tiny fangirl hearts burst, but Viktor thought it only fair. Without the troublesome three, Yuuri would never have returned. And Viktor would still be alone. Sometimes the Russian thought of what he would have done if Yuuri had not entered his life. He probably would have kept going, pointlessly skating until his injuries forced him to retire. He would still be alone, still skating alone, his world still composed of faded and muddled colors. Yuuri ran in and painted over it all in messy but bright passionate colors of every shade, and he opened Viktor's eyes to a life he never could have dreamt up. Viktor believed in soul mates and fate and karma, so he wondered how many universes he must have saved in his past lives to deserve Yuuri. Or had God sent them down together to serve as guardian angels for each other. By now one could not function without the other, two skates of the same pair. Two lonely desperate souls thrown together on the ice to form a burning passionate relationship, rekindling a fire in Viktor that died with his fifth gold medal. And with its rekindling, Viktor then used to warm Yuuri, to bring he who lost faith in himself from the depths of grief back into the world of ice. It was oxymoronic how they both felt warmest on the ice, safest on the ice, even when executing countless potentially life-threatening jumps. Viktor finished loading up the dish washer and wiped down the counter. He made his way to the bathroom, hearing the shower still running. He entered and shut the door behind him. Seeing that Yuuri had not turned immediately he would tell the younger was lost in his thoughts. Viktor stripped and joined Yuuri in the shower. Yuuri leaned back as Viktor hugged him from behind, placing his chin on Yuuri's shoulder.  
"What are you thinking about Моя любовь*?" Viktor asked. Yuuri hummed a little in response.  
"Not much. Just us." Yuuri replied. Viktor chuckled.  
"JUST us? You seem to underestimate our value Yuuri,"  
"Hmm…perhaps. Or maybe it's just your overinflated ego Vitya,"  
"Yuuuri that hurt." Viktor fake-winced, hugging Yuuri around his waist tighter. Yuuri laughed a little, reaching an arm back to pat Viktor on the back of his head.  
"Okay you're right; WE are a HUGE deal, but only because you let me freeload off your glory."  
"Yuuuuri-"  
"What; it's true; I don't have 5 consecutive World Championship wins."  
"But you can pole-dance." Viktor teased. Yuuri no longer flinched; he had been teased out the incident for over a year by now. He had faced it and accepted it already.  
"Hmmm…yeah. I most definitely can out dance an oaf like you."  
Viktor nearly tipped them both over as he burst out laughing. Yuuri joined him as he turned and caught Viktor's head under his chin and the elder slouched over with laughter. They always seemed to have the weirdest fights in the shower. That, or Viktor f*cked Yuuri till he fell to his knees. That was fun too. The two stepped out of the shower and dried off and dressed in sleep wear. Neither being really in the mood for sex that early in the morning they both fell asleep soon after, Viktor's head over Yuuri's heart as he listened to his love's heartbeat.  
"Goodnight, любимая**"  
"Goodnight, Vitya"

* * *

June bled into July into August. And with the dying of the pleasant, somewhat muddled and humid Russian summer came the need for Otabek to return to Almaty. His flight was leaving tomorrow evening. Yuri had requested long ago that Yakov let him and Otabek take that day off. The aging Russian coach let him have, understanding the need, and also not feeling up to deal with Yuri's wrath if he were to be refused. So in their last night together before they met again in December in Germany, Otabek took them to the Obvodny canal as they watched the sunset. Yuuri had helped Yuri make Katsudon Pirozhkis and some other items for their picnic. After Otabek witnessed Yuri's breakdown, the Russian had become much more open with his boyfriend now that Otabek had accepted him and had not judged Yuri for his "weaknesses". The months they spent together strengthened their relationship greatly. The last few months they trained together, cared for each other's injuries, shared meals, shared adventures, shared stories and shared their struggles. It was the first time since their relationship grew from friendship to lovers that they were going to be apart for so long. It was going to be nearly four months before Yuri could touch Otabek in person again. There were promises to Skype one another, but they were skaters and such promises would be hard to keep. They would keep in contact through private messaging. But aside from that, hundreds of miles would soon be thousands once the series began and they traveled about for competitions. Yuri only now really noticed how beautiful St. Petersburg looked at this time of the evening as the sun reflected on the water, as the oranges painted across the sky faded to give way to pinks and reds and violets. It was a beautiful background for their last date of the summer. Yuri and Otabek held hands the entire day aside from practice, even now as their palms overlapped on the blanket they sat on.  
"I'm going to miss this Beka. This is our last evening together."  
Otabek turned to Yuri, but Yuri did not turn his face as he kept staring at the water.  
"I should not be so sad; it's not like we're breaking up. If you ever dumped me I'd break your face." Yuri continued. He was serious. Mostly. "I mean…it's only for a while. I went years without knowing you…and I'll still have to deal with Piggy and the old man until the season starts. But I will miss you."  
Yuri said, finally turning his body to face Otabek. The elder smiled a little, the real genuine ones that were reserved for Yuri.  
"I'll miss you too Yura. Don't worry. We'll be together again soon. Do well, and let's meet again at finals."  
Yuri smiled too, eyes crinkling into half-moons. This was not the end; it was just the beginning of another chapter of their story together. Yuri could never give a definite date for when they became a couple; if asked he would say April, when Otabek dropped everything and flew hundreds of miles to rescue Yuri from himself. They shared a kiss in the fading light, under a tree in a park with no other witnesses. Yuri's Instagram posts that night were especially fluffy. Just a simple photo of the sunset over the canal tagged with a few choice words. Yuri spent the whole night tucked away against Otabek. Otabek had one arm under Yuri's head, the squished between them. After Yuri drifted off Otabek looked upon Yuri's face in the dim moonlight that illuminated his unspotted skin and blonde hair. Otabek swore he was the most beautiful person he had ever seen. Otabek soon fell asleep as well, dreams full of warm colors and ice.  
"Мен сені жақсы көремін***, Yura"

Too soon Yuri found himself at the airport gate right before Otabek was to pass through security. Yuri's throat was tight; he was so unwilling to say goodbye. Otabek's emotions were harder to decipher as he had his sunglasses on and his face was in its usual stoic expression. Viktor was outside, waiting to take Yuri back to the city. Otabek and Yuri slept in that day. They packed the rest of Otabek's bags. The Kazakh man bid farewell to Lilia and they were picked up by Viktor and taken over to his apartment with Yuuri. The four shared one final meal together of Russian and Japanese food. They chatted lightly about Otabek's plans and about his family back in Almaty. But soon, Viktor ushered them into the car as Otabek gave his final goodbyes to Yuuri. Yuri sat with Otabek in the back, clutching one of his hands tightly enough that it turned white. Yuri wanted Otabek to remember his hold, and Yuri also was just unable to let go. Even for a little bit Yuri did not want to waste a single moment of their time left together. Yuri felt that he was sending Otabek off to war, which was far from the truth but still. And now, with Otabek pulling himself away after one last hug with Yuri, the Russian watched as Otabak turned and began to walk towards security. Yuri just watched, glued to the floor in the middle of the departures terminal.  
 _"OH SCREW THIS,"_ Yuri thought, going with his instincts. It was either he do it now or wait another four months. He ran, closing the small distance. This was so clique and they were in public but Yuri just did not care as he grabbed Otabek, who turned around in surprise before Yuri got on his tip toes and pulled Otabek into a kiss. Otabek dropped the handles of his luggage and caught Yuri around the waist, eyes widening behind his shaded. He had NOT been expecting this from Yuri, but hey, who was he to complain. Otabek returned the kiss. There were a few more, until Yuri reluctantly pulled away, a few tears in his eyes but a huge smile on his face. Otabek smiled too.

"I'll see you soon Beka."  
"I'll come back to you Yura; I'll be back soon."

Yuri believed him.

* * *

Back in Moscow a figure crotched over one of its laptops, going over the numbers again and finalizing travel arrangements on another laptop. Yes. It was all falling into place now. It was fool-proof. Katsuki was going down. Around the bedroom, the walls were plastered with hundreds of photos of skaters. Many were drawn on, with hearts or kisses or other signs of adoration. But there was one in particular, hung right across from the bed. Drawn over the team Japan jacket was a target. A knife had been thrown clean into that target which was now imbedded in the wall. Yuuri had ruined EVERYTHING. The figure had been keeping up with the news lately. And it was not happy. And it was Yuuri's fault. If Yuuri had just disappeared like he was supposed to, Viktor would be free. Viktor would be happy. Viktor would end up where he belonged. The figure was determined to bring Viktor home. It had to happen. It would be worth it in the end. Viktor would see reason and truth soon enough. He just needed to come home.

* * *

*Моя любовь (My Love)  
**любимая (Beloved)  
*** Мен сені жақсы көремін (I Love You)

A/N: Hi guys. Hope you are enjoying the story so far. We are about half-way through now:)  
Don't worry, I promise there will be a sequel once this one is done; I got my plot all planned out :D  
As always, Review are always appreciated and feel free to drop me a private message whenever. Thanks for reading guys!


	13. Chapter 13 - Yuuri, LA Devotee

A/N: So I have taken creative liberties with the locations of the events. As for the order and date of each qualifying event of for the Grand Prix, I used the order in which they occurred for the 2016 season. Hope this helps explain any oddities my story has. Just for reference, it goes Skate America and Skate Canada in October, then Rostelecom, Trophée de France, Cup of China, and NHK in November.  
Also some of you may or may not have noticed but I left a lot of references to Kpop and Kdramas and other fandoms throughout the story :p, if anyone's interested.

Yuuri waved goodbye to Viktor as Yuuri walked away toward security. The elder had protested, trying to convince Yuuri to let him come with him but Yuuri refused. Viktor was going to stay behind in Russia and focus on his own upcoming competitions. Yuuri insisted that he would be fine for a few days. Besides, Phichit would also be in Los Angeles with him, and his former coach Celestino would watch over him in Viktor's absence. Still, Viktor was reluctant to be separated from his fiancé, even for a few days. Yuri would be leaving too, to Montreal, as Skate Canada was only a few days after Skate America. There was some discussion of Yuuri flying north to see Yuri but those plans all fell through. They would meet again in St. Petersburg, before going to Moscow for Rostelecom. Neither Yuuri nor Yuri were competing, but they were going to support their mentor. And for Yuri, he could meet with Nikolai, who had agreed to host the three skaters for their time in Moscow. But that wasn't for another 2 weeks or so. Right now, Yuuri was flying to LA for the first event of the 2017 Grand Prix series. And there was a heavy, heavy weight sitting upon his shoulders. He had a lot that he had to live up to. Blowing one last kiss to Viktor, Yuuri exited security and moved toward his gate, Viktor watching from as he went out of view.

Yuuri landed in the early hours of the morning, and it was nearly 2 AM when he finally plopped down on the bed in the hotel. He had messaged Viktor as soon as he had landed and the two had talked briefly, but Yuuri was exhausted and needed his sleep. The free skate was tomorrow. He had the day and tomorrow morning to run through his program but that was all. Yuuri had confidence though; he would show the world that he was okay, and that he was going strong and was going to live up to last year's performance. He did not bother to shower that morning, grabbing whatever sleep clothing was closest within his luggage. He would shower in the morning, before he headed out for practice. That early morning Yuuri's dreams were empty. It was all just grey fuzz. It was rare that Yuuri did not dream vividly. Sometimes it was just a re-run of childhood memories, sometimes they were fantasies about Viktor, a lot of times they were nightmares of varying degrees. But not then; Yuuri's dreams were utterly empty. Still, the Japanese skater could not complain too much. As long as they were nightmares, that was all fine.

Across the sea Viktor lay cuddled against Makkachin, who now occupied Yuuri's place in bed. Viktor missed him already; it would be the first night of a few that he would sleep alone. It was like his younger days all over again. But it was not so bad; Viktor had someone now, someone to wait for. Yuuri had landed alright and was settled in at his hotel. Viktor would try to catch the coverage, if Yakov would let him. Viktor knew he should worry about himself as well. He had Rostelecom; a loss there would be a tragedy almost equal to never skating again. The faint smell of his fiancé lingered in the sheets, luring Viktor into slumber. That night Viktor dreamed of the exhibition skate from the previous year. That skate was their declaration of love to the world. It was only the beginning. Viktor hoped to never see the end to that story.

Yuuri looked upon the ice, earbuds in playing American pop music of some sort. He spent yesterday and the morning earlier today running through the most difficult aspects of his program. It was hard. It was much harder than "Eros", but stakes were made to be raised. Yuuri twitched in his costume under his TEAM JAPAN jacket. His costume had more mesh this time around, though it was all very well placed. Viktor had led him to the one Russian designer he had relied upon for years, since his junior days. Elizabeth was a tall thin woman with asymmetrically cut hair and light hazel eyes that had the same iciness as Viktor's despite their warmer color. Around her shop were dozens of costumes in various states of completion, hundreds of fabrics and other materials. She welcomed Viktor in heartedly when they entered the shop, kissing Yuuri on both cheeks as well. She had gone to work immediately, measuring, asking about skating and his programs and what he wanted. Yuuri felt a bit intimidated at first but she was kind and together a costume came together. Two weeks later the costumes came in, and they were gorgeous. Yuuri emailed Elizabeth back, thanking her for her hard work, really emphasizing how much he loved the costumes.

His short program costume was of a black material; solid black. There were large cutouts in the sharp of curls near his waist, wrapping up to under his armpits. Having taken note of Yuuri's dislike of gloves in his costumes there were none. Instead Elizabeth had inlaid the ends of Yuuri's costume with black mesh in a motorcycle glove-like contraption, leaving Yuuri's fingers free to feel the cold air of the rink. But all along the black fabric were twinklings of blue cloth. There were over a dozen different shades of blue, as well as a few shades of grey, and black and white, which was clustered around Yuuri's arms and legs, lessening as the designs reached the chest area. When Yuuri had first skated for Viktor in it, Viktor noted how the blue fabrics remind him of a snowstorm as Yuuri skated around quickly. Even when Yuuri was not in movement the blues were a nice accentuation of his costume. They almost looked like wings in a way. There were also a few clear crystals thoughtfully sewn in here and there, along some areas of the designs. It seemed he was reborn from the Russian winter, a storm of glittering ice and snow. The only warmth about him was the gold ring, still resting upon its designated finger on his right hand where Viktor placed it. It would always be Yuuri's warmth, the reminder that someone was waiting for him. Viktor was like the sun in more ways than his smiles.

Yuuri watched the skaters in front of him fondly; they were all so talented and skilled in their own ways. Regardless, they all skated well. As part of the last group Yuuri would be one of the last people to go. So he spent his time talking with Leo and Phichit and Otabek and the other competitors. He went over his program in his head, occasionally letting his mind drift to Viktor. Viktor would be watching, most likely from a YouTube livestream with Yuri. They would either have to get up early or have stayed up that late to watch him. Still, an 11 hour time difference seemed to be a small price to pay. Yuuri would have done the same.

It was almost Yuuri's turn to enter the ice. There was only one more skater ahead of him. Viktor had taught him to not worry too much about the scores of the other competitors, and for the most part Yuuri had not, but he was still nervous. More so in that he did not want to disappoint everyone's expectations than his own embarrassment. But this time around, it also seemed easier, without Viktor there. Sure officially Viktor was still his coach but Yuuri forced his fiancé to focus on his own career first. Yakov did most of the actual lecturing during the practice session, though he did let Viktor have final say when it came to Yuuri. But in doing so, Yuuri was not skating for Viktor this time around. This time, Viktor was next to him as a competitor first, as it should be. Yuuri was skating for himself this time; it was new but it bore within him a new confidence in his abilities. Viktor believed in him, so Yuuri was going to skate and prove to himself that he should have some more faith.

As his name was announced, Phichit gave Yuuri a light shove onto the ice as the cheers rand loud around him. There were many banners adorned with his name, a few Japanese flags, some chants and screams of his name. He looped around, taking starting position in the center of the ice, arms wrapped around him at the waist, staring up to the ceiling. As the first strokes of the violin rang out, he artfully unwound himself, letting the background noise fade around him. It just him, and the ice. This particular piece had taken him a few days to select, and then several more hours in editing to make it truly his. He wanted this session to be different. Last year, it was almost a goodbye to the ice. He was so sure he was retiring. This was his return. This was the new Yuuri.

His theme this season?

Elegance. His theme was elegance.

* * *

Yuuri' strong point had always been his step sequences, but this session they were even more elaborate, precise, impeccably executed. The facial expression, the coordinated hand movements, the small winks and the glint in his eyes; he was personifying beauty itself it seemed.

Yuuri lands a clean Triple Axel, Triple Toe-Loop combination to the cheers of the crowd.

As was last session, Viktor took advantage of Yuuri's high stamina and back-loaded the second half of his program with the required jumps. After Worlds, Viktor had gone back and redone some of the aspects of his program. It was cleaner, more streamlined, a lot of the fluff chopped away for a sleeker design. It worked out for the best.

Landing a Quad Toe loop the crowd went wild again, Yuuri then drawing into a spread eagle.

This year served in contrast to last year. Last year he seduced Viktor. This year, there was no need to seduce anyone but himself. He was off-limits; he was high on a mountain, of class, untouchable and already claimed by someone and no one. The ring proved that he was not alone, but even Viktor dare not claim too much for himself.

Landing the last Quad Flip perfectly, a few more step sequences, a sit spin, and the music drew to a close. And Yuuri again found himself listening to the cheers of the crowd. Then he was being pelted with sushi plushies, a few pig plushies, roses and all sorts of other things. Taking a bow, Yuuri waved as he skated off the ice to the Kiss and Cry to await his scores. Exiting the ice Celestino was there to hand him his skate guards and his jacket and phone. Phichit was there too, Yuuri squished between the two of them on the bench. Currently the Thai was in 4th after the free program, but Yuuri had high hopes that he would share the podium with his long time best friend once again. Otabek currently sat in first place, a comfortable 3.63 margin between him and the current second place holder, Leo. Arthur, the England's rising star, was in third. Though in everyone's mind, there was no doubt Yuuri would displace the holdings. Which he did. Gaining a score of 114.87 for his short program, Yuuri was now in first. Still, it was a bit off from skimming Yuri's SP world record from European Championships. The then 15-year-old had racked up a score of 119.07, beating the score of 118.56 that had broken Viktor's own longtime record. Otabek was not far behind at 111.93.

* * *

After waving to the crowd some more from the bench and bowing a bit more in thanks Yuri went backstage to the locker room he shared with Phichit and Celestino. As Yuuri unlaced his boots his phone buzzed. Viktor was calling. It was now around 3 AM back in St. Petersburg according to some quick math, which told Yuuri Viktor had stayed up after all. He answered.

"YUURI! ConGRATZ! I watched your performance! It was FANTASTIC!"  
Yuuri smiled, warming up inside. "Thanks Viktor. I'm happy too!"  
"I'm SO PROUD OF YOU YUURI! You worked so hard!"  
"Mhmm," Yuuri replied, still unlacing his skates.  
"I MISS YOU ALREADY! I SHOULD HAVE COME WITH YOU!"  
"Viktor I miss you too; we discussed this! You need to practice too if we are going to meet as equals!"  
"YUUUUUUURRRRIIIII…" Viktor whined.  
"Vitya. I'll back soon! Wait for me K?"  
"Of course Yuuri! Always!"  
They chatted a bit longer about Yuri and Makkachin and Yakov and the others. But Yuuri soon forced the Russian to hang up and catch some sleep, which he reluctantly did. Yuuri packed up the rest of his stuff and made his way out of the arena, waving bye to Phichit and Otabek as he left. The arena was already much emptier, as some time had passed between the end of the free skate and when Yuuri left the locker room. Yuuri decided on taking the metro back to the hotel, to save time and money. Walking out Yuuri began the short walk to the nearest metro station. As he walked he felt eyes on his back but Yuuri likened it to his anxiety. He had an emergency button on his bag in case things did go wrong, at Viktor's insistence. But when Yuuri kept turning his head around there wasn't anyone there. Yuuri soon made it to the metro, paid for his one-way ticket and got on. It was not that crowded as it was later in the day. Yuuri's hotel was 4 stops away. To pass time he checked his social media, replied to messages sent by his family, and checked in on the free program notices. Yuuri again felt off, as if he was being watched. He again did not think too much. He was in an unfamiliar city, what else should he have expected.

Getting off at the right stop, he exited onto the street and began the short walk to his hotel. It was about a half a mile away from the metro station, so Yuuri did not feel compelled to hail a taxi. But not even 2 minutes after exiting the metro did Yuuri feel a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders. Yuuri gave a small yelp and turned around in shock. He was relieved to see a smiling Christophe and his boyfriend. Yuuri had nearly forgotten that Chris was also in LA for the competition; he had not seen him the entire day aside from the short practice session earlier that morning. Somehow Yuuri had missed Chris' program, probably distracted by staff or something along those lines. "Yuuri how have you been," Chris teased. "Hey Chris…" Yuuri replied, somewhat awkwardly. Yuuri still has not completely used to Chris' tendency to make EVERYTHING sexual. Sure they were familiar because of the pole dancing…and also because last year Chris has grabbed his butt, but still. It was weird. Chris chuckled, seemly picking up on Yuuri's emotions. The one skill that was very interesting about Chris was that he was very good about picking up emotions. There was no way to lie about one's feeling to him. But he was also very good at dealing with other's emotions. Chris had occasionally been the one to comfort Viktor at his low points.

"Yuuri you did so well today,"  
"Eh you too Chris! You did a great job too,"  
"Tsk, no…I fell on that Quad Lutz; I blame it on my aging bones! I thought I had a chance last year, and then you waltzed in and wiped the floor with us. I expect the same this year hmm?"  
"Eh…he he…I'll try my best." Yuuri said, running a hand through his hair.  
"By the way who was that person behind you earlier?"  
"What?" Yuuri asked, confused as to what Chris was talking about.  
Chris turned to his boyfriend, who nodded in confirmation.  
"Well earlier I was in a different car as you as we took the metro. And as you exited there was this person who was following you about 4 feet back the entire way until we caught up to you." Chris stated. "I couldn't get a clear look, but the person was in all black, and had a face mask on and sunglasses. When the person saw us approaching you, it slipped off in the crowd and we couldn't get a better look…"  
Yuuri was a bit scared and very confused. But he kept his anxiety and deep fears in check.  
"I'm sure it was just a fan," Yuuri said, though his voice had that edge of uncertainty.  
Christ caught it of course, but he let it go. "Yeah. I'm sure it was just a fan. You're getting more of those now that you have gotten so much more popular,"  
"I'm not sure…I mean I still haven't won gold."  
"Oh pretty boy you'll get gold. I'm sure. Besides, hasn't Viktor ever reminded you that gold doesn't make the person? Just look at JJ and his ridiculous army of girls."  
Yuuri laughed. The three made it back to the hotel and parted ways to their separate rooms. It was still early in the day, so Yuuri thought to go explore downtown a bit and grab a meal. He thought to buy something for Viktor, as to fit his expensive tastes. Looking through his messages, Viktor had often told him to message him about anything and everything. Yuuri chose not to tell him about the strange person who had apparently been following him. It was nothing too worrisome anyways.

* * *

Viktor called as soon as the free skate was over. He had stayed up to watch his Yuuri skate, disregarding the need to sleep. Honestly Viktor would not be able to sleep anyways; it was bad enough that he stayed behind in Russia instead of flying out to LA with Yuuri. But that was decision was made weeks ago. The least he could do now was watch.

Yuuri looked beautiful in a dark navy one piece bodysuit with accents. It was buttoned up to the neck but the bottom had several cutouts across Yuuri's center that exposed Yuuri's well-defined abs artfully. Those areas were covered with a dark grey mesh embedded with dozens of tiny blue crystals. There were slits of similar fashion that wrapped around the legs of Yuuri's costume, similar to a vine plant. Again Elizabeth had taken into account Yuuri's hatred of gloves and left the ends of the sleeves with a hole for Yuuri's middle finger. Again Yuuri's engagement ring was openly displayed for all the world to see.

The first part of his program had a Triple Flip, a Triple Axel, a Quad Loop, Double Loop combination and a Triple Lutz. Viktor frowned a bit to see Yuuri under-rotate his Quad Salchow, Triple Toe-Loop combination, making it a double instead of the triple. Knowing Yuuri, Viktor knew the younger was a bit shook up by the mistake. Viktor just hoped it would not affect the rest of the program too much. Yuuri then moved into a Quad Toe-Loop, Triple Toe-Loop combination, which was landed. Moving into an Ina Bauer Viktor sighed; he was so beautiful stretching his body out like that. After landing a clean Triple Lutz-Triple Flip, Viktor held his breath as Yuuri went into the last bits of step sequence. Yuuri's last jump was a Quadruple Flip. As Yuuri lifted off the ice, Viktor's eyes were glued to the small screen of his iPad, waiting. It looked rotated fully, and Yuuri seemed to have sticked the landing...and then he fell. Viktor let out a palpable gasp along with the rest of the world watching.

" _Oh Yuuri"_.

Of course Viktor was not disappointed with Yuuri; he was just saddened by the circumstances. Yuuri went into his last spin and ended, back bent, one hand at his throat, the other raised to the sky as he looked up, gleaming in sweat and what Viktor REALLY hoped weren't tears. _"Oh Yuuri.._. _Моя любовь. I'm sorry…"_ He was not sure why he was apologizing. Maybe it was because he was not with him in LA. Maybe it was because Viktor was not there with Yuuri to comfort him. By far the performance was still extraordinary and was beautiful and was by no means a failure. But Yuuri had a tendency too hard on himself when he isn't perfect. We kept watching as Yuuri's exited the ice with sad eyes and a false grin. Phichit was there with full smiles praising Yuuri's performance and Otabek was at rink side as well. Currently Otabek was first, and was guaranteed a spot on the podium. It just came down to Yuuri's score, as his short program score meant he was last to skate. As Yuuri sat on the bench of the Kiss and Cry flanked by his best friend and former coach, he had his arms around his abdomen, bouncing his legs slightly. He looked nervous. Of course he was. Viktor was just as nervous. No doubt Yuuri would make the podium; he skated so well.

Otabek had gained a score of 209.86 for his free program, bringing his total to 321.79. Yuuri needed at least a score 206.93. Viktor understood, with Yuuri's fall and the double instead of triple, it would be a bit of a stretch. Leo was currently in second, at 317.26. Yuuri needed at least 202.39 to win silver. And currently in third was Chris, at 316.26, a mere single point behind. So 201.39. If Yuuri could at least be awarded 201.39 points, he would bring home a medal. Viktor always had his phone on the calculator app for these things.

The announcement came on for Yuuri's scores. Everyone held their breath, even Viktor under the covers grabbed Makkachin closer.

202.00. Even.

Viktor let out a sigh and almost cried as he watched Yuuri break into a smile and he waved to the camera and bowed. It was close. Yuuri won bronze. Viktor was happy for his fiancé. Of course he cared more for Yuuri than a chunk of medal, but the medal only helped Yuuri in realizing his own competence. It helped prove to Yuuri that he was good, that he was worth it. As soon as the medal awarding ceremony was over and the coverage ended Viktor's phone buzzed. It was from Yuuri. It was photo of him, Leo, and Otabek with their medals smiling brightly. And also Chris and Phichit peeking in from the corners with funny faces. Everyone looked happy, even Otabek had a small grin. Viktor saved the photo; it was just that adorable. He got a text a few seconds later.

Fiancé: Did you watch? :p  
Viktor: Of course! I'm so proud of you love 3 3 3  
Fiancé: I got lucky; I fell.  
Viktor: You deserve to win Yuuri. Mistakes happen sometimes. You worked hard and you earned that medal after a hard fought battle. You skated so beautifully. I'm proud of Yuuri, no matter what you place! You'll always be number one in my heart.  
A few seconds passed.  
Fiancé: Cheesy.  
Fiancé: But appreciated. Thank you. Miss you. See you soon. Love you 3  
Viktor smiled. Yes, Yuuri was coming back to him.  
Viktor: Love you too. Come back safe!

With that Viktor shut off all his devices and finally settled in for a few hours of sleep. He needed to get up in a bit for practice and pick up Yuuri tomorrow morning.

* * *

Yura: WELL DONE.  
Otabek: Thanks. *thumbs up emoji*  
Yura: You beat the Katsudon fair and square this time; seems you are now some of my biggest competition.  
Yura: I look forward to royally handing you your butt at GPF. You better qualify.  
Otabek: Of course. Anything for you Yura.  
Otabek: Same goes to you.  
Yura: I am offended. You DARE think I would fail? :(  
Otabek: Just checking. Sure you don't want me to meet you in Montreal?  
Yura: No. Worry about yourself. I can kick JJ's ass by myself.  
Otabek: Alright. If you say so.  
Yura: K.

Yura: Still there?  
Otabek: yeah.  
Yura: Miss you.  
Otabek: Miss you too.  
Yura: Love you.  
Otabek: Love you too.  
Otabek: Go to sleep.  
Yura: K.

Yura shut off his phone after. Otabek would be 19 soon. He would not be around to celebrate with Otabek because of the competitions going around. It saddened Yuri a bit; it would be another month, almost two before he would see Otabek in person again. As competitors, at the Grand Prix Final. They would all make it. All four of them. He, Otabek, Yuri, and Viktor; he did not know or care who the other two finalists would be, but the four of them would do battle at the very least. He hoped for at least that much.

* * *

A hooded figure watched from a distance as Yuuri exited the rink with Phichit, Chris, and a few others. Poor luck; Yuuri had yet to be found alone. No plans could be put in play yet. _"No matter,"_ the figure thought to itself. There would be Rostelecom. It figured Yuuri would be there. And with Yuri and Viktor around Yuuri might just let his guard down, might just slip up. Then the figure would pounce. None of its plans had succeeded so far, but those were the baby one, the annoying ones. The big deadly ones would come out soon enough. If not at Rostelecom, then at NHK, then at the GPF. Last resort was the GPF; the figure was ready to blow itself up along with Yuuri, and even Viktor and Yuri if it came to it. _"All for him. He will remember you forever if you do this. It must be done. For him. All for him."_

The person figured it had no reason to stick around any longer. For now it seemed to have run out of opportunities. The figure checked on its flight status. It was time to return to Moscow. Home base. There, it had the home field advantage. So now it was simply a matter of returning to Moscow, regrouping, pulling a few strings, and waiting for Yuuri to fall into a well-planned trap. Patience was the key.

* * *

Yuuri stretched his legs a little as he exited the flight and made his way through the terminal towards the arrivals lounge, to Viktor. Viktor had arrived early quite some time ago apparently, too eager to just sit at home and wait. Yuuri rubbed his eyes; he was exhausted after his flight. A nearly 17-hour flight, non-stop. Viktor had blessed him with a first class cabin in the sky, and Yuuri was passed out from exhaustion most of the flight, but still, Yuuri was practically dead on his feet. He had caught a red-eye flight, leaving on a 4 AM flight out of LAX straight to St. Petersburg. He landed at almost 8 AM local time in St. Petersburg. He was slouched over and ready to faint, but upon exiting into the arrivals terminal, and seeing Viktor with a glittering sign with lights along with Yuri welcoming him back was enough to squeak a smile from Yuuri. Viktor waved, shoving the sign to a disgruntled Yuri before running to Yuuri and enveloping him in a hug. Yuuri gave feeble hug back, smiling as Viktor gushed over his medal and how exhausted Yuuri must be and how he needed his rest. Viktor drove them all back to city, Yuri chuckling himself out once Viktor stopped in front of Lilia's place.

Later after Yuuri had showered and buried himself in bed with Viktor next to him, he could not be happier. Viktor SHOULD be at practice, and Yakov was blowing up his phone with messages. But Viktor silenced it and settled in with Yuuri. Yuuri was too tired to force Viktor to go to practice. So he just let himself be lured back to sleep, tucked against Viktor who was stroking his hair. Yuuri was home.

* * *

*Моя любовь (My Love)

A/N: So for Yuuri's short program, I had Vivaldi's "Winter" in mind and for Yuuri's free program I had the JunCurryAhn cover of INFINITE's "The Eye" in mind. So for men's, the short program is 2 minutes and 50 seconds and the free program is 4 minutes and 30 seconds, give or take 10 seconds. I know the songs listed above and from previous chapters and stuff do not match these time frames; I apologize for that. I chose these songs based on how I thought they would fit each skater.

Okay the other note is that the official Wiki lists Otabek's birthday as October 31 and age 18. As that date is in the middle of the GP series, he would have aged during the series, but it's not told if he turned 18 during the series or he was 18 prior and was therefore 19 during the 2016 GPF. I'm doing to assume it was the first case where Otabek was 18 during the GPF 2016 and is therefore 18 during Skate America.


	14. Chapter 14 - Expectations

A/N: Hi guys. So I've taken some of your reviews into consideration and made changes as needed. If there are any more suggestions or requests, feel free to drop a PM or leave a review. This is a Yuri-centric chapter. Enjoy!

* * *

Viktor once again found himself at the airport bidding farewell to a Yuri. But HIS Yuuri was with him this time. And would remain at his side for quite some time. For the rest of the session really, because as it stood Yuuri had the first and last qualifying events of the 2017 Grand Prix series. He had just completed the first. NHK was not until the end of October, and Yuuri would be following him to Moscow for Rostelecom. He would unfortunately not be joining Viktor in Paris, but it was only a few days. They just made it through the first series of separations. Viktor grieved even over that though; he absolutely LOATHED being apart from Yuuri, even if it was for a day, even less so multiple days. But Yuuri could deal with his man-baby later. Right now they were at the airport bidding Yuri goodbye as he was to fly to Montreal for Skate Canada. Yuri let himself stay squished between his "parents" in a hug for a bit longer before pulling away and promising to bring home gold. Viktor and Yuuri did not expect any less from him; the Russian Fairy was fierce, and what Yuri wanted Yuri would get if he worked hard enough. It would not be long before Yuri became the dominant figure of the skating world, if he wasn't already.

* * *

Waving goodbye to Viktor and Yuuri, Yuri passed through security, shoved in his cat-print earbuds, shouldered his bag and followed Yakov to their gate. Alania, one of his rink mates, was also with them. She was 17 and recently moved from her small town near Siberia to St. Petersburg to train under Yakov. This was her first Grand Prix; she had also been at the European Championships and placed 12th, and had placed 14th at Worlds. She was a well-known junior skater, though she never did win gold before her senior debut. She was getting better under Yakov though, and he placed her faith in her. As she was one of the skaters closer to Yuri's age they sometimes chatted during practice. She was like Yuri in their mutual love of cats, but she was much kinder and overall quieter. She was quirky in her own ways but she was a good person and Yuri got along well with her. Yuri occasionally helped her during practice, teaching her how to land her jumps more cleanly and how to gain more speed when going into her jumps. Somewhat like Yuuri, her footwork was her best aspect. Once her jumps caught up to that level, Alania would definitely be a force to be reckoned with. Yuri believed that, as well as Yakov and the rest of the Russian team.

As they settled into their seats on the plane, Alania plugged in and began binge watching Criminal Minds on her tablet. Yakov chose to take a nap. Yuri sent his last messages to his grandfather and to Otabek before the flight attendants went around for final checks. It was going to be a long flight, and Yuri hoped to be able to sleep through most of it. He hated planes honestly; high altitudes made him ill. Not the point of acrophobia or motion sickness, but heights made Yuri queasy. They were all in the air soon enough, Yuri still blasting death metal through his earbuds. Settling into the comfy business class seat Yuri let his thoughts drift. First he thought of the millions of ways he could wreck JJ the moment he was within eyesight. The Canadian loudmouth was the worst thing about the country in his personal opinion. Maybe JJ was not a horrible person per say, but he annoyed the living shit out of Yuri. Even last year. Last year was an embarrassment, losing to JJ. Then having to listen to JJ brag. That was even worse. That would not happen again. Do or die Yuri swore to never let JJ beat him again. Besides, that hatred served as fuel. As evidenced by last year, a motivated emotional Yuri hell-bent on a goal, fuel by anger, determination and self-dialogues could perform beyond even his own expectations. It was like the time he woke up feeling horrible, then he got so angry and fed-up with Viktor for some reason that his immune system must have done some Voodoo magic, because within the next few hours all symptoms were completely gone.

Yuri also thought of Otabek. It had been more than a month since he last saw Otabek in person. It was nearly October now. He thought perhaps he could visit in November, after qualifiers were over but decided against it. Or perhaps they could arrive early Gelsenkirchen and spend a few days before and after the competition just looking around. It would be like a date. They hadn't had many dates, just because of their career as skaters. It was hard, being apart all the time. Yuri would win. For Otabek. Yuri soon drifted off as well with his mind lingering on the last moments he had spent with Otabek.

Alania woke him twice for food service but otherwise it was a rather eventless flight. They landed at LAX for a short layover before boarding their second flight to their final destination. By the time they had exited the plane, hailed a taxi, checked in and entered their respective rooms Yuri was in no mood to do anything else. It was late at night, he had one free day to practice tomorrow morning, and then it was off to the short program. He messaged Otabek and his grandpa that he was in the hotel before taking a shower, changing into his PJs, shoving his phone on the charger and burying himself beneath the sheets. He did not even bother to set an alarm; Yakov could spam him with calls in the morning for all he called but right now Yuri just really wanted to go back to sleep. Cuddling his tiger and bear plushies closer, he did just that.

* * *

The day of the competition came. The women's singles were first so Yuri watched as Alania took the ice. She was skating to "Swan Lake (Ballet Suite)". Tchaikovsky. Alania had become Lilia's student as well as Yakov's. Yuri had actually been the one that persuaded Alania to take up the challenge, as she was initially reluctant to take on the intense piece as her own. But she did. And it was amazing; she transformed on the ice. She shed her shy and cheerful nature on the ice, becoming strength, elegance, power. Even now on the ice, as she was decked out in all white and clear crystals and glitter, she looked to be a force to be reckoned with. She was more of an Odile than an Odette. It was a paradox, this beautiful blonde Russian girl, thin, blue eyes so pale they bordered on grey, dressed in delicate white, yet her skating told of a stone cold warrior. She was lot like Yuri in that way too; scary things can come in small packages. Yuri clapped and offered a smile as she exited the ice, grins and all, face slightly flushed from her program. Yuri stayed at rinkside while Yakov went with her to the Kiss and Cry. Yuri made the right call in somewhat forcing the girl take on Swan Lake. Twelve years of ballet training made him a master of spotting those who would shine in the art. Alania was one of the most blaringly loud ones that stood out to him. Sure Yuri had only known her for a little over 6 months but still, her skill was very present.

Alania's score was announced. There was some tension, as she did almost fall coming out of her triple toe-triple toe combination. And fall out of her spiral early. No big crashes on the ice though. Alania was only the 7th skater of the day, but she was now in first place. An unexpected surprise but definitely not unwelcome. She smiled brightly and turned to hug Yakov who smiled as well, patting her on the head. Yuri smiled too. She had made a Grand Prix debut that rivaled his own in many ways. He stayed to watch Sara Crispano skate as well. Michele was also around, as he too was assigned to this competition. She was one of the favorites to win. However a flubbed triple flip-double toe-double loop combination and slightly under-rotated triple axel landed her in 2nd.

At the end of the day Alania had fallen to 3rd behind the American and Canadian representatives respectively. Still, there was still a very high possibility she could win gold after the free program. Yuri had helped choose her music for that program as well. "Tosca", by Giacomo Puccini. Another classical piece that emphasized the power she expressed on the ice. She would do well, no doubt there. But Yuri would have to hit the ice soon. He was in the 2nd group, so there were a few skaters ahead of him, whom Yuri could watch, and observe. So far he had not run into JJ. Fortunately.

* * *

Yuri itched in his costume. A bright scarlet military jacket with golden tassels. There was heavy embroidering on every inch of the top in golden thread. The jacket LOOKED but of course it wasn't. Viktor's go-to designer Elizabeth had pulled off this masterpiece as well. It was decided sometime after Ostrava that Yuri needed a more mature looking costume. The blue body suit did not exactly match the music as well. Underneath he wore a pair of simple black slacks, his skate boot covers with some gold thread as well. It was very over-the-top looking, more like the decorative military jacket of a royal family member. But it was fitting. He was, of course, skating to Tchaikovsky's "Pas de Deux" from "The Nutcracker". Which MIGHT have also been another reason why he pushed so hard for Alania to pick another Tchaikovsky piece; some minor coordination never hurt. His gold hair was gelled and combed back, slick against his neck. Alania called him a handsome prince when he first presented the new costume. It stuck; he was a prince. A fairy prince.

Yuri skated to the center of the ice as the announcer presented him to the crowd. The audience roared at their reigning champion. Yuri had a title to defend. Looking to the ground, on both arms at his left waist, as if he were grasping his sword and waiting for the signal to brandish it.

The opening notes of the harp rang out. Yuri raised his head and his arms to the ceiling and let the crowd and background noise fade into nothing. Pushing off, he thought only of the ice, the program, the prize at the end. No one was going to come between them now.

A Quad Salchow, both arms raised. Landed perfectly. Cheers from the crowd that Yuri cannot notice. A Triple Lutz-Triple Toe-Loop, landed perfectly with one arm raised. More cheers. A smile from Yakov from the sidelines. Alania is clapping and cheering him on.

A half-Biellmann spiral moves into a lay-back spin. Clean.

He had a Quad Lutz planned next. Yakov spotted a glint in the blonde's eye as he skated past during the step sequence. Yakov knew that look. It seemed Yuri would yet again not listen.

Yuri didn't.

Quadruple Flip.

A hand on the ice, a shaky landing, and an almost face plant, but its rotations were full.

Some more step sequence. Another spin combination to finish off the program. The finishing pose. The praise of the commentator's Yakov's half-hearted clapping and seething face on the sidelines. Alania clapping and whooping in happiness. Yuri could deal with Yavok. What was done was done. Skating off the ice he lifted his skate guards from Yakov's outstretched hand and sat on the bench in the Kiss and Cry. Yakov sat at the other end.

* * *

115.45.

Not a personal best for Yuri, but it was good enough as it launched Yuri into first place. Yakov did not smile; he was still thoroughly annoyed with Yuri's tendency to change his programs on instinct alone. But Yakov was proud. He just would never admit it.

* * *

As Yuri made his way backstage, he finally passed JJ. To his surprise the Canadian looked extremely focused. Now that he thought about it, even during the warm-up JJ had seemed different, as if he was distracted. JJ looked straight ahead, simply nodding to Yuri as they passed in the hallway. He had his earbuds in, his hands in his pocket, Isabelle at his side. But JJ did not stop to tease Yuri or make any comments or even bother to tease Yuri, or damn him. It was strange. Maybe JJ had finally matured. It seemed to be the case because he surpassed Yuri's score. 117.85. Too high in Yuri's opinion. He watched the program; sure the base points were a little higher but the mistakes should have added up. Seems JJ still had the home field advantage and somewhat biased judges. Whatever. The margin was small. Yuuri could still win during the free program.

Still, when JJ exited the ice and was led away by his mother JJ looked saddened. It was barely noticeable but Yuri had seen a fair amount of sadness and pain in his lifetime and could recognize when others were in pain. And JJ was most definitely in some sort of psychological conundrum. After his score was announced JJ abruptly got up from the Kiss and Cry bench and went backstage. There were a few more skaters JJ did not stick around to watch. Which again, was odd. Yuri may not know JJ very well on a personal level, and JJ might be his rival and Yuri might think JJ was the biggest sparkling turd on the ice, but even he was perplexed. His skating had been subpar. There were mistakes. His heart was not in that program he just skated. JJ's mind was most definitely elsewhere. And the fact that he had kept to himself so much had not only Yuri worried but also Michele and Sara, and the other skaters. JJ was just…not JJ today. Yuri really did wonder if something must have happened.

* * *

JJ sat in bathroom in one of the stalls, phone to his ear, and the other hand over his mouth. He did not want anyone to walk in and just watch him crying. He had done his best today, but he had been unable to focus on his skating. He was on the phone with the hospital. The hospital that held his father. His father had a heart attack two nights ago; he had just plopped while walking to the kitchen. JJ had been checking social media with his fiancée on the coach of their apartment when he got the call from his little sister. He and Isabelle rushed over to the family home where he found his younger siblings crying on the coach. He was able to get some information from them before Isabelle ushered the Leroy siblings into her car and drove them all to the hospital. Their mother had ridden with the ambulance. JJ was in the backseat with his siblings trying to calm them down, assuring them that Papa would be fine. JJ wasn't sure actually. He lied to himself that night too. His mother was in the hospital lobby, pale and silent in one sterile hospital chairs. There was not information yet on Mr. Leroy's condition. So they all waited. And waited, the entire night. Hours later a doctor finally emerged. Mr. Leroy was alive. But the stress had gotten to his heart and it had weakened. There was valve failure. JJ did not comprehend all the details. His father needed surgery. He would miss the competition; his condition was to be determined. JJ was wailing on the inside. He clung to Isabelle that night, weeping until he sobbed himself to sleep. He promised to win gold. He NEEDED to win gold, and he was going to dedicate the rest of the season to his father. His father, who supported him and "JJ style" when few others would. Who coached him and taught him to skate and cheered for him skate after skate. He and JJ's mother had been a huge part of every step of JJ's career. JJ was scared. Even as he skated out to start his program he was scared. He was too preoccupied to talk with Michele or tease Yuri. He was scared of losing to Yuri, more than ever now. In JJ's mind a loss here equaled a failure to his country and his father. He would be a disgrace. He was on the phone for about a half an hour talking to the doctor about his father. He was stable, but beyond that there was little else that could be confirmed. JJ did not even hear the bathroom door open and the steps stop in front of his stall a while ago. After he hung up he finally took notice of the additional presence.

*knock*

JJ stopped breathing as he looked down and saw a pair of cheetah print sneakers.

"Open the door. I won't hesitate to kick it down. And stop crying would you." Yuri growled, though there wasn't any real bite behind his voice.

JJ hesitantly pocketed his phone and stood up and unlocked the bathroom stall door. Yuri was there. Holding a box of tissues and a water bottle. JJ's jaw opened a little. Yuri glanced sideways and wordlessly shoved the items closer to JJ, who accepted. After cleaning himself off, he wordlessly followed Yuri out of the bathroom into the empty Team Russia room. Yuri indicated for him to sit, which JJ did. JJ was shocked and confused at the show of kindness. But he sat, and watched for what Yuri had planned.

"I figured you'd need this stuff. I know the feeling. My grandfather fell off a ladder when I was 12. He was in the hospital for a while, and could not come to my competitions. The doctors were saying he might never walk again." Yuri started, sitting across from JJ with his legs crossed. Yuri's face and tone were pretty emotionless. JJ's eyes widened in shock; this he did not know about Yuri, and was rather amazed his competitor who supposedly hated his guts was sharing something so intimate.

"He's fine of course. You've seen him in photos and news I suppose. He's walking. His back is still weak, but we get by."

Turning to look straight at JJ he forced him to meet his eyes. "My point is the best you can do now is skate. I will not go easy on you; it would be an insult to all of us if I just let you win. BUT, your father would want you to keep going. So do that. See if you can. He'll want you to do your best. So do that, Leroy." Yuri said curtly. Yuri wasn't being harsh per say, just honest. JJ might not want to hear it but he needed to.

JJ held more tissues to his face and cried and sobbed more. It stung, a little, but what Yuri said was true. Yuri was right. JJ needed to skate his best; that is what his father would want. It was the best he could do now. It would do him no good to keep sitting around and crying. JJ nodded. "thank you-"

"I don't want your thanks Leroy. Wipe your tears and go home and get rest. I expect you to be at your best when I beat you tomorrow."

JJ nodded. He gave Yuri another glance, a silent signal of gratitude and thanks, and left the room. Yuri watched the door close. He let out a sigh. No person deserved to see their loved one in the hospital. No matter how annoying and despicable they may be.

* * *

Yuri retired early to bed that evening. He declined joining Alania to dinner in the city; there was much on his mind now too. Yuri might be irritable but he wasn't a bad person. Nor did he wish illness and pain on other innocent lives. And he was not a religious person either, but he found himself praying for Mr. Leroy. Yuri then took the time to tell his grandpa that he loved him and could not wait to see him soon. And he talked with Otabek too, letting him know that he missed him. Otabek missed him too. It was tough being away so long. They made do. They had to.

* * *

Yuri again found himself in first after the free skate. His had skated a clean program with no major mistakes. Well, his triple axel-triple toe-loop ended up being a triple axel-double toe-loop, and he fell out of his spin combo early, but those were minor. Yuri scored well. 205.27. His combined score was 320.72. He was in first. That left only JJ.

The Canadian needed to earn a score of at least 202.87.

He didn't. JJ tried his best but he couldn't do it. The same fire that was usually there just wasn't as bright this time. But JJ made the best of the fleeting embers, going for quads, picking himself back off the ice when he had to. He kept going, even when he started to loss to his emotions. The crowd cheered for him, Isabelle and his mother watched with tears as well as he struggled to the end. It was a very emotional skate, even when it was littered with errors. JJ did not get his gold.

But JJ did get something better.

* * *

Yuri watched as the home crowd rose to its feet in cheers, seemingly first for JJ but soon all the cameras panned to another area near the Kiss and Cry. And there was Mr. Leroy, up and on his own feet and smiling. JJ smiled through his tears as well and he rushed out from backstage back to his father, who hugged him tightly and told JJ how proud he was of him. JJ cried, sobs wracking through his body as he clung to his father and mother like he was a little boy again. He got silver. He lost in his home rink. But seriously his father was alive and thriving and he could not give less of a shit right now. Seeing Yuri, he gave a gracious bow, admitting defeat. He also mouthed a "thank you". Yuri nodded, a barely there smile on his own face. Seems they both were able to get a happy end to the competition. Yuri walked away toward Alania who was waiting for him. She wrapped him in a hug which he returned as she congratulated him. Alania had won bronze; impressive for her first Grand Prix qualifier. Yuri looked forward to what she would bring next. Someday Yuri was sure she would even defeat Mila. Mila was widely considered the best female skater in the world now. She was the favorite to win gold at the Grand Prix. Yuri thought the old hag was annoying, but he could not deny her talent.

The next morning before the sun was up, he was already in the airport, ready to be headed back to St. Petersburg. Yet he received a message.  
JeanSh*t: I'm thinking you anyways. Dad is fine; he's recovering well and thanks you for your words as well. Congratz on winning. I conceded defeat. I will win next time, m'lady.  
Yuri almost choked. He cringed, but held himself from replying immediately with a string of insults and telling JJ to fuck off.  
Yuri: You can try. But you will fail. Your reign will end and upon the ashes of your kingdom a stronger and better one will rise.  
JeanSh*t:…dramatic. I look forward to competing against you again.  
Yuri did not even bother to reply to that.

A few minutes later he got a message from Otabek.  
Beka: Congratz. I knew you could do it.  
Yuri: Yup! Now I expect the same from you in Paris.  
Beka: I will try my best.  
Yuri: I expect no less.  
Beka: I heard about JJ's dad. Heard he made it to the free program.  
Yuri: Yeah. They fine. JJ thinks he will beat me at the finals.  
Yuri: HAH. As if. I've empathized with him enough already.  
Beka: You did a good thing though.  
Yuri: Wait how did you know?!  
Beka: JJ messaged me, telling me that I was lucky.  
Yuri blushed. Sort of because JJ complemented him but also because Otabek did too.  
Yuri: Thx.  
Yuri: Miss you.  
Beka: Miss you too. Have a safe flight. Call or message whenever.  
Yuri: K.

Yakov called for him and Alania and they got up, grabbed their bags and got in line to board the flight. He would have the day they landed off, but then it was back to practice. One down, one to go.

* * *

Viktor woke up when he felt Yuuri stirring next to him. They were to board a flight in a couple hours around noon and reach Moscow in the evening. Tomorrow would be the first day of Rostelecom. Viktor would skate for his home crowd once again. Yuuri seemed to be shaking, murmuring nonsense as he twitched in his sleep. Viktor was mostly awake and knew a nightmare from Yuuri when he saw it. It was second nature my now. He reached over to Yuuri and pulled the man closer to him again, holding him tight as he sat up with Yuuri in his arms, rocking the younger in his arms. He sang some of the old lullabies from his childhood that he still remembered. Even if Yuuri could not hear him it seemed to work most of the time. Yuuri did stop shaking eventually and his breathing evened out. Viktor was unsure if Yuuri woke up but soon the Japanese skater was breathing softly and evenly again. Viktor wiped the tears away from Yuuri's cheeks and kissed the younger on his head, eyelids, and lips, moving them back down and pulled the sheets over them. The sun was not yet up, so they could catch a few more hours of sleep. Yuuri snuggled closer to Viktor and Viktor soon let himself fall back asleep as well. This time is wasn't so bad. Any nightmare was bad, but these ones Yuuri would not remember having once he woke up. If only that were the truth for all his nightmares.

Indeed the next morning Yuuri did not remember anything. He woke up with Viktor pressing kisses to his head, waking him up and telling him that they had to leave soon. Yuuri grabbed Viktor and pulled him down for a few more kisses. They cuddled a bit before Viktor forced them both up. Yuuri grabbed his glasses from the bedside table and stood up, stretching himself out. The sun was already high in the sky; it was getting colder again as it drew closer to winter. Yuuri moved around, checking that Viktor had indeed packed everything. Viktor was in the kitchen making them breakfast. Yuuri emerged from the bedroom fully dressed and moved their luggage to the front door area. Yakov would be around soon to drive them all to the airport. Lilia was coming along this time too. Mila too, as she was the darling skater of the Russian Federation despite her less than pure reality. Somehow they all successfully got to the airport, got though security, checked-in, got on a plane, survived the short plane ride without havoc breaking lose, landed, and made it to baggage claim. Mila, Yakov, and Lilia were all staying at a hotel closer to the arena. As for Yuri, he dropped his bags and ran upon seeing Nikolai who welcomed his grandson's embrace. He then bid Yuuri and Viktor over as well. Viktor was well acquainted with Nikolai by now and thanked the old man once again for hosting them. Nikolai waved it off, saying that it was not a big deal and that he was happy to see them all again. Yuuri exchanged simply pleasantries in the simple Russian he knew.

They all made it to the apartment where Nikolai had prepared lots of food. Especially Yuri's favorite. Lots of it. They stuffed themselves that night, having not had proper food since the afternoon. They all thanked Nikolai for the wonderful meal. Nikolai then led Yuri and Viktor to the guest room where they would be staying during the duration of the competition. Yuri retreated to his own room after bidding everyone else goodnight. Viktor needed his rest; it was a big day ahead of him tomorrow. And Yuri would never let him live it down if he lost tomorrow. It was tough, but he was Viktor Nikiforov, and he was not quite ready to hang up his skates yet.

* * *

A/N: And now we find ourselves at the brink of Viktor's first event of the 2017 Grand Prix series. Will he live up to expectations? Or will he crash and burn, too old and too ancient and no longer the looming giant of his glory days. Stick around, and find out next chapter :D  
Hope you guys are liking the story so far!


	15. Chapter 15 - Moscow Dreams & Terrors

A/N: Angst warning. Thanks for reading! Comments, suggestions, and requests for this story are welcome! Or PM if it's preferable.

* * *

Yakov barked at Yuri to keep up with him, Lilia, and Mila as they made their way through the stadium. The men's short program was going to commence in less than an hour and they needed to find Viktor. Well, Yakov did anyways; he had some last minute lecturing to give. The women's programs had been earlier that morning; Mila was currently in 3rd., after the short program. She was still in her costume, a dress of black and red lace, which lended well to matching her hair. She had her TEAM RUSSIA jacket over it and had changed out of her skates and wore a pair of fuzzy hot pink boots instead. It was actually quite easy to find Viktor, as he was absolutely surrounded by fans, other skaters, and many other people, all inquiring about his return to the ice. He WAS the 5-time champion after all, and everyone felt anxious competing against him. Yuri believed he would be too, if he were competing today. Yakov finally successfully dragged his way through the crowd, the others not far behind. Viktor was happily talking to the crowd around him, having that mask of an arrogant champion on. That was the mask he perfected for the public long ago; the smile on his face could not be less fake, but the press bought it. Seeing Yuri and the others, Viktor waved them over and excused himself from the crowd and joined them as they all made their way backstage.

The Russian Team was given a spacious private room in the back, which is where they all hid out once they escaped the crowd. Yuuri was waiting in there already, greeting everyone as they entered. Yuri fake puked when Viktor went over and pecked Yuuri on the cheek before sliding in next to him on the coach. He had his red and white team jacket over the maroon and navy military jacket costume. His skates were already laced up, the tops of his gold skates peeking above the black skate guards. His hair was still loose; he never did bother to do anything with it. Even now, when it was a bit longer and covered one side of his face completely. Yuuri was on his phone, checking social media. Yakov spoke in Russian with Viktor, probably something about his program. Yuuri did not understand too much, as his Russian was still rudimentary at best. Yuri was off in the corner, blasting his heavy metal loud enough to be heard outside of his cat-eared headphones. Mila was on social media as well, making small talk with Yuuri. Overall, the environment was not that stressed, BECAUSE it was Viktor. Even at 28, Viktor was still largely regarded as the best figure skater of his time, a living legend, far above the rest on his pedestal. Yuri was not far behind, having broken the short program record AND winning the Grand Prix at 15, but the world had only just been introduced to the Russian Ice Tiger-Fairy. Viktor on the other hand had dominated the figure skating world for over a decade, since he was 16. Viktor's time would come, no doubts there. But the general consensus was that that time had not yet come. Not today. Not this Rostelecom.

* * *

Viktor could no longer really surprise the world with his jumps. He was already doing four quads in his program. And he was too old to ever try for a quadruple axel in competition; someone else would get that honor, performing the first ever quadruple axel in competition. Viktor knew he was aging; one fall too many and his career would end very abruptly and permanently. Besides, even if he did land it, Yakov would give him so much hell. He did not need that glory anyways; Viktor already had a very impressive and well-awarded career. What Viktor could do, however, was move his jumps around and improve his footwork. After a full year of being enthralled by Yuuri's step sequences Viktor decided that he needed to elevate his own; Yuuri had helped him with that. Viktor had also been working on his stamina; he had gone on a bit of a diet to regain as much muscle as possible. He had put in more hours on the ice as well. He also went to the gym. He worked on his stamina at home as well, in the bedroom, with Yuuri. He liked working out at home with Yuuri the best. Yuuri thought the same. For his long program, Viktor then moved a Quad Toe-Loop, Triple Toe-Loop combination and a Quadruple Lutz to the second half of his program, to rack up more points. He was still not as sturdy as Yuuri though, and left the rest of his jumps in the first half of the program, including his signature Quad Flip and a Quad Salchow with a difficult entry. Other than that, Viktor incorporated the same repertoire of jumps he had been using for years, as it was already practically the highest level of difficulty. Again, Viktor had very little else he could do to surprise the audience. At least, not with his skating. Perhaps that too was why Viktor was so sure he was in his last season. He enjoyed coaching; he would be happy to quit and coach full-time. But for now, he wanted to share the ice, just this once with Yuuri as a competitor.

As he stepped onto the ice once again, he his time to look around the stadium. He looked around, the cheering and adoring home crowd. The roars were deafening; Viktor was unsure, but it seemed the place was bursting to the steel rackets with people. So. Many. People. So many had come to see the return of Viktor. And there were thousands more around the world with their eyes on him. After his impressive comeback at the Russian Nationals, then at the European Championships, then at Worlds, the world roared at the return of its beloved crowned prince. Or maybe they had all gathered to catch one last glance; maybe the world could sense his impending retirement as well. He had not told anyone yet; he suspected that Yuuri had his suspicions though. And his music choices, and his theme, pointed to his impending exit too.

Legendary.

His theme was "Legendary".

He spotted Yakov, Mila, and Yuri on the sidelines, along with all the other competitors. It seems everyone was crowded at rink side to witness his performance. Or was this is swan song, his last great success. Viktor was going to enjoy it to the end though. This may well be one of the last programs he ever skated, one of the last competitions. He looked around the crowd, the thousands of signs and Russian flags, the blown-up photos of his face, the screaming fans, the roaring supporters; and then there was Yuuri. He could clearly see Yuuri, waiting by the Kiss and Cry, glued to the side of the rink, fingers clutched around the barrier, eyes staring intently at Viktor as he took his starting position.

And so it began again.

After the initial step sequences Viktor opens with a Quad Salchow, Triple Toe-Loop combination, landed without a hitch. He moves into a combination spin, then transitioning with a spiral into his next set of step sequences. A Triple Axel, with a back counter entrance, one arm up too. He transitions with a flourishing set of steps and a pivot into his last jump, his signature. Viktor landed his Quad Flip wonderfully, the crowd working itself into a frenzy. With the last jump completed, a few more elegant step sequences, Viktor closes with a flying sit-spin with leg change. Moving into his final pose, his silver hair now slightly frazzled, his face a bit redder, eyes looking straight to Yuuri, the crowd just cheered and cheered, flags and banners waving, the clapping drowning out the commentators.

And so it ended.

Plastering his media face back on, he waved to the crowd and picked up a few plushies, some flowers, as well as a crown of blue roses. That was this thing really, the blue roses. These were artificial though, but it mattered little. He went over to Yuuri, who took the items from his arms so Viktor could put his skate guards back on. Yakov nodded his approval. Yuri gave a curt nod as well, which Viktor returned. It was there little language, their show of approval. No words were needed among them. Mila, on the other hand, gushed affection and compliments, which Viktor thanked her for. He sat with Yakov on the bench, awaiting his scores. Viktor went over the flaws in his head. The single missed step in his step sequence. The sound of his blades hitting a little harder than they should. The tiny tilt too far to the left when he took off for his Quad Flip. Or maybe he did not put enough emotion into his program. Viktor was aged and rusty. But the questions was if he was still good enough.

118.90.

Huh. That would have beat Yuri's Grand Prix score from last year. But Viktor now comfortably sat in first, more than 7 points above the next highest SP score. He smiled, still oozing confidence and arrogance as he waved to the crowd around him and blew a kiss and wink to the cameras, most likely giving several hundred people watching life-threatening nosebleeds. Yuuri used to be one of those people. But Viktor also "casually" gestured around with his bare right hand, the gold ring gleaming on his pale hand against the dark fabric. He just needed to…"remind" the world that he was engaged. He definitely was not gloating about Yuuri. Or maybe he was, because some news outlets also panned to Yuuri on the sidelines, some going as far as to zoom in on his ring as well. Yuuri waved to the cameras too, he too making the gold gleam as his right hand moved around. Yep, it was definitely clear to the world who the power couple of skating currently was.

And for now, the prince still had his crown.

* * *

Once the events closed for the evening, Viktor still sat in first place after the short program. After mentally preparing himself he linked hands with Yuuri and exited the stadium to the mobs of press outside. Questions were being screamed from every direction, the flashes of dozens of cameras blinding as the two moved through the crowd. Yakov, Lilia, Mila, and Yuri were with them as well, as Yakov screamed for the reporters to clear out of the way. Viktor had sunglasses on but still shielded himself as best as he could from the mob. Yuuri cling to Viktor's hand tightly as he was pulled along. The Japanese man opted to wear a face mask and had the hoodie attached to his jacket pulled over his head. Yuri had his hood up, sunglasses on, earbuds in, and followed closing behind Viktor and Yuuri. Mila was in the rear, screaming occasionally behind her for the reporters to back off. Her ability to be very loud was useful in times like this. They were armed well, bodyguards forming a circle around the group and keeping the mobs at bay for the most part. Eventually the group made it to the van, Yakov slamming the door behind them and barking for the driver to leave. Even as they sped away the screams and camera flashes followed for several hundred feet. So far, so good. With Yuuri safely attached to his side and the mob left behind, Viktor relaxed once again, pulling the glasses from his face and running a hand over his face. Viktor felt like an old man, with the aches in his bones and muscles and the need to sleep creeping into his mind. He rested his head on Yuuri's shoulder, the younger petting him and assuring him that they were fine.

Yakov, Lilia, and Mila were dropped at their hotel. Yakov exited the van last, giving stern warnings to Viktor to not drink and to take it easy for the night. He turned to Yuuri, making him promise to ensure that Viktor didn't do anything stupid. Yuuri nodded of course. He was the good student. Some thought he was Yakov's favorite because he did whatever was ordered. And he was also Lilia's favorite because he was built for ballet. Only Yuri was better equipped for ballet at the moment, but it remains to be seen what happens when Yuri's puberty kicks in fully. Yuri slammed the door behind Yakov with a grumble and a few curses in Russian and gruffly told the driver to continue to Nikolai's apartment.

But in that time Viktor noticed a message on his phone. From Georgi. Just a short congratulations on his performance. Viktor had not kept that much in touch with him, since Worlds. But then again, Viktor was in Moscow now, and Georgi was nearby.

Georgi: Good job today. Watched the performance; you still got it  
Viktor: Thx 3  
Viktor: How r u doing? Did you come to see the performance today?  
Georgi: Yeah. On TV; I don't think I'm ready to go back into a rink yet…

So Georgi had not been in the audience today. Pity, but Viktor understood. Still, Viktor wished his friend would have skated happily with him today. Georgi is such an amazing skater; he is one of the best in Viktor's opinion. Viktor honestly hoped he would return someday.

Viktor: So K. No need to explain further. But how r YOU doing?  
Georgi: Better honestly. Been keeping up with the events. Doing some reading, helping a few kids at the local rink.  
Viktor: Glad to hear you're doing well! :D

They talked a bit more, about the competition and about Yuuri on Viktor's half. Georgi talked about keeping himself busy. He read a lot of self-help books, learned to cook a bit, visited his parents again for the first time in many months. It was slow but Georgi was making progress and generally seemed much happier than when Viktor last spoke with him. Viktor again offered Georgi his help if he ever needed his talk but the conversation was otherwise brief.

Upon arriving back at Nikolai's place, the three were again ushered in and welcomed back with a warm home-made dinner. After stuffing themselves, Viktor and Yuuri readily offered to do the dishes, insisting through Nikolai's protests that they were his guests. He gave in though, thanking the two. So while Nikolai lounged on the couch watching some Russian cop drama and Yuuri and Viktor cleaned up in the kitchen, Yuri retreated to his room. Once he had locked the door and ensured his privacy he called Otabek on Skype. It had been several weeks now since they met face to face, and Yuri was really starting to succumb to the loneliness that accompanied their separations. Otabek answered after the 5th ring, seemingly having just got back from the rink. It was late afternoon in Almaty, as it was early evening in Moscow. They just…talked. About anything and everything that came to mind. They kept bringing up new subjects, coming up with more excuses to keep talking. They talked about everything from skating to the cat and Viktor and Yuuri and Otabek's many relatives. They had been talking more about nonsense recently; neither really knew why. And neither would admit just how much they missed each other. They would be together soon though, in a little over a month's time. But the days seemed to pass slowly. Yuri as equally anxious and excited to compete against his boyfriend soon. Until then, he comforted himself through their Skype calls and messages and social media posts. Yuri occupied himself with practice and planning the murder of his enemies.

Later in the evening Yuuri and Viktor were cuddled on the bed of their guest bedroom, both on his phone scrolling though social media. Yuuri seemed to be messaging Phichit and Viktor was looking through the skating forums for news. Something caught his eye, an article about a pair of ice dancers. It involved Anya, as in the same Anya that ripped Georgi's heart to shreds. Viktor furrowed his brows and opened the full article, reading about the stated argument. Apparently the two had been crushed when a drunk driver smashed into their parked car as they prepared to leave practice a few days ago. They were both alive but had been forced out of the Grand Prix series due to their injuries. Viktor resented the woman for what she did to his best friend, but still he sympathized; she did not deserve to be injured in such a seemingly random and unfortunate accident. The pair were good, having taken 6th at Worlds. Sitting out sucked; Viktor knew because he shattered his ankle prior to Russian Nationals when he was 18, and could not return until Worlds. Then Viktor wondered if Georgi knew. He probably did, as he stated he had been keeping up with the news. Viktor wondered a moment if Georgi visited her in hospital following the news break. Georgi certainly had not mentioned her while they were talking earlier. But then again, she left a very deep wound and it was still very delicate and healing, and should not be prodded. Viktor then thought back to the papers he received prior to Rostelecom. He vaguely remembered seeing her listed as one of the competitors for Rostelecom back when the assignments were announced in the summer, so he had wondered then why she was not listed the day before the competition. The truth was known now, and it was grim but worse things could happen. As evil as it was, Viktor attributed it to karma.

Closing the article he set his phone on the bedside stand and plugged it into its charger. It was getting late and he still needed to be ready for his free program. It was tougher with the changes he had made to it to try and up the score potential. Yuuri soon reached over Viktor and set his phone aside as well, turning off the lights in the process. He then settled himself to lie on Viktor's chest, the Russian than scooting down the headboard to lie on the pillows, pulling the covers over them and wrapping his arms around Yuuri. He laid a kiss to the younger's forehead, who hummed in response and snuggled closer. Neither were really in the mood to do much else that night anyways. Sleep was the most appealing activity; the had already talked and chatted away the entire day from the early morning to the end of the competition day and over dinner; there was little else to say.

* * *

Yuuri woke up in bed alone. It was still dark out but Viktor was not in bed with him. Rubbing his eyes Yuuri looked around. The light in the adjacent bathroom was not on, so Viktor was not in their room it seemed. Scooting over to Viktor's side of the bed Yuuri reached for his glasses off of the stand and turned on the lamps as well. The sheets were cold, and Viktor was definitely not in the room. His slippers were gone from beside the bed as well. Yuuri slipped out of bed, putting his own slippers on and grabbing one of Viktor's sweaters from behind the door and putting it on before exiting the room. The living room area was dark, illuminated only by the moonlight streaming in through the windows. Yuuri wandered through the kitchen area first. No Viktor. He could hear the faint snoring of Nikolai and Yuri from the other closed doors. Viktor was not in the living room either. Moving toward the entrance, Yuuri finally found Viktor. Viktor was sitting on a stool, looking out the window next to the door. He was wearing very little, and must have been freezing in the colder weather but did not seem to be harmed. He looked with distant and distracted ice blue eyes out the window. The moonlight that streamed in illuminated his features, his silver hair shining. And there were tear streaks. _"Why were there tear streaks?"_

Yuuri moved toward Viktor, calling his name softly. Then a little louder. The Russian did not turn to his voice, which Yuuri found odd. But as Yuuri drew closer to Viktor, Viktor abruptly stood up, roughly wiped his face with his hand and grabbed one of his coats from the rack by the door and headed out. Yuuri ran, grabbing a coat of his own and following Viktor out the door. _"What is going on? Where is Viktor going?"_ Yuuri thought to himself as he ran to catch up with him. Viktor was running though, and he had a head start and Yuuri struggled to catch up. Viktor kept running until he came to a bridge. Then he just stopped and looked over the edge. Yuuri hesitated, stopping to catch his breath as he watched Viktor. He was just staring over the edge, his reflection showing in the shallow water in the sewer below. "Viktor?" Yuuri called, cautiously. Viktor did not look up. "Viktor? Are you okay? What's going on?" Again Yuuri did not get a response. As Yuuri inched out of the tree line slowly, walking toward Viktor, a car suddenly approached from the street behind Yuuri. It was swerving, and it was approaching the bridge. Suddenly it lurched to the wrong side of the street, toward Viktor. Viktor turned in time to see the headlights approaching him, and he just froze. Viktor's eyes widened a bit but he didn't respond fast enough to move to the side. The car smashed into him, breaking the stone behind him as well as they all tumbled down below. Yuuri could feel his throat straining but could not hear himself scream Viktor's name as he sprinted towards the scene, as if he could push Viktor out of the way. He watched it happen, as if it were in extreme slow motion. The car then just backed up and drove away, but that wasn't Yuuri's biggest concern at the moment. Yuuri heard the sickening crunch of bones and gravel as Viktor plopped to the bottom of the ravine. From the streetlight Yuuri could see the shallow water grow read with Viktor's blood, from the open wound on his head. The pristine silver hair was now a dark maroon.

A person nearby who witnessed the accident was already on the phone, calling for emergency services. Yuuri climbed his way down the side of the bridge and knelt by Viktor's body. He reached to lift Viktor's head out of the water. To his horror, his finger went right through Viktor's skull. Yuuri recoiled in shock. He tried to touch Viktor again; he couldn't. _"W…what?!"_ Yuuri could hear Viktor murmuring. Yuuri called Viktor's name several times but it seemed as if he could not be heard. Soon first responders ran straight through Yuuri's knelt body and lifted Viktor onto a gurney. Yuuri didn't even feel it; he screamed, as if he could be heard by the first responders. There was no response. Yuuri nevertheless climbed into the back of the ambulance and sat by Viktor, ignoring the people who ran through his body. Yuuri had no idea what was going on, but Viktor was very very hurt and that was Yuuri's main priority. He watched as the responders screamed to each other in rapid Russian, putting all sorts of needles and a mask over Viktor. Viktor was still bleeding and growing paler by the minute.

By the time they got to the hospital Yuuri found a bench to sit in and just waited. For hours, for days, for months he was not sure. People passed by him but fortunately no one sat on him. When he heard a doctor pass by talking about Viktor he sprinted after her. She spoke in Russian and Yuuri had no idea what Viktor's condition was but she did lead him to Viktor's room. She left soon after, and Yuuri was left alone with Viktor. Viktor was awake, somehow. He had a mask over his face the left side of his head had been shaved and now had several stitches and was bandaged. But Viktor still looked horrible, confined in too many casts and too many bandages. Viktor was…dying. Yuuri could sense it; he knew it somehow and it horrified him. No, Viktor couldn't die. He just couldn't.

"Yuuri,"  
"VIKTOR I'm RIGHT HERE! CAN'T YOU SEE ME? HEAR ME?"  
"Yuuri I've missed you so much,"  
"YES, VIKTOR I'M RIGHT HERE! I WAS SO WORRIED! I WATCHED YOU GO DOWN-"  
"Yuuri, you've been gone so long," Viktor slurred.  
"What? Viktor I'm RIGHT HERE!" Yuuri was screaming now, his lungs burning.  
"Yuuri why did you have to go,"  
 _"Wait, WHAT?!"_ Yuuri's mind was overloaded but he was still more shocked.  
"VITYA, VITYA I'm RIGHT HERE! IT'S ME! YUURI! I'M right HERE!"  
"Yuuri how's heaven?"  
"Vitya NO!"  
"I'll be joining you soon. I don't have a purpose to fight to live,"  
"VITYA! VITYA I'M RIGHT HERE! NO! I'M RIGHT HERE!"  
"I'll see you soon Yuuri…"  
"VITYA!"

Viktor's eyes shut as he slurred out his good-byes. Yuuri was sobbing, grasping frantically at Viktor, trying to hold him, trying to get Viktor to hear his pleas. But Yuuri was helpless. He screamed but nothing was heard. Viktor began to flat line and nurses and physicians began to stream in. Yuuri just watched as they kept performing CPR, giving electric shocks, trying everything to restartViktor's heart. The Russian screams and the beeping of the heart monitor and the alarms were not to be heard for Yuuri; he just watched in silence as Viktor died. He could barely see through his tears. He was just screaming Viktor's name, over and over and over again. He just kept screaming.

* * *

"YUURI!"

* * *

Yuuri bolted up screaming, though it was for real now. There were tears streaming down his face and his throat was busted for sure. But he felt familiar arms around him and saw a familiar face in front of his, messy silver hair and icy blue eyes that were shot with terror. "Yuuri, you need to breathe. You'll go into shock. BREATHE Yuuri. There we go. In, and out. In, and out." Viktor said, keeping eye contact with the hysterical Yuuri. Yuuri just eventually begin to breath normally again. He had his hands clutched to his chest as his vision cleared. Yes, Viktor was there looking extremely concerned but otherwise fine. The light was on and Yuuri blinked a bit to adjust to the brightness. When all seemed stable he reached out a hand to Viktor hesitantly, first touching Viktor's right cheek. Warmth met Yuuri's cold hand. Yuuri moved the hand to the rest of Viktor's face, through the soft silver strands, just to be sure. Real. Viktor was solid and real and Yuuri could feel him. Yuuri then scooted back against the headboard, burying his head into his drawn up knees. He just wailed and Viktor looked on absolutely stunned. But he soon snapped out of it and pulled Yuuri out of his ball and into his arms as he whispered to Yuuri that everything was okay. He let Yuuri cry it out, as it seemed he was really traumatized by whatever it was he saw in his nightmare. This was one of the worst ones yet. Yuuri clung to Viktor for dear life, sobbing into the soft cotton shirt. It smelled like Viktor. He was held by Viktor. It was Viktor who was whispering to Yuuri. Yuuri just needed to have contact with Viktor, he just needed to hold Viktor.

"I watched you DIE," Yuuri choked out. "I watched you DIE. And I couldn't touch you. And you couldn't hear me. I watched you give up on living. You were saying that you were joining me in heaven. I was dead. You were dying! Viktor I watched you DIE,"

Viktor just held Yuuri as he blabbed. He let the younger vent and he just hugged him close and listened. "Shhh…Yuuri it wasn't real. It was nightmare. I'm okay. You're alive. I'm alive. I didn't die. We're both alive. You're safe," Viktor cooed, rocking Yuuri back and forth in his arms. Yuuri seemed to shiver and shrink closer into Viktor. "I'm right here Yuuri. I'm not going anywhere. I'm right here. I can see and hear you and you can touch me. You can feel me Yuuri."

Yuuri could indeed hear the rapid beating heart of Viktor Nikiforov. It was reassuring, helping Yuuri return to reality. "Okay."

"Hmm? What'd you say Yuuri?"  
"Okay. Vitya. Okay. Okay."

Yuuri sat back up, wiping his face a bit. Viktor provided proper tissues so Yuuri could clean himself off and blow his nose. Viktor then led Yuuri into the adjourning bathroom where he helped the younger clean his face and provided a clean shirt. Leading Yuuri back to bed he sat with Yuuri in his lap, surrounded by Viktor's arms completely. Viktor laid his head on top of Yuuri's, still whispering reassurances. Yuuri's nerves were still shot, but he was breathing normally and his grip on Viktor had loosened a bit. Soon he was giving into his exhaustion. Viktor noticed.

"Let's lie down Yuuri; try and get some sleep."  
"Hmm…Vitya stay with me."  
"Of course Yuuri. Of course. Always. I'll stay with you forever. I'll never leave you."

Viktor kept whispering that promise to Viktor as Yuuri continued to fade back into slumber. Viktor reached over and turned the light back off and laid back down, holding Yuuri close. If Yuuri needed his touch, then he would have it. As much as he needed. Anything Yuuri needed that Viktor could give would be given. Viktor was Yuuri's in every regard, just as much as Yuuri was his.

"Vitya?"

"Hmm?"  
"Promise me that if I ever die before you, you'll continue on."  
Viktor looked down at Yuuri, jaw dropping but the younger looked sleepily back at him.  
"If I die, continue living. I don't want you to end your life to join me; keep going. I will never forgive myself if I am your cause of death."  
Viktor mouthed words but no noises came out.  
"Promise me Vitya. Please." Yuuri whispered hoarsely.  
Viktor let out a great sigh but nodded. He understood, but really hoped it would never come down to such a harsh reality. Viktor never wanted to face the reality Yuuri described. That was the worst of the worst of the worst possible scenarios. There was no worse hell for Viktor now than life without Yuuri.  
"Okay. I promise. But you need to promise the same. Promise that you'll go on even if I'm no longer in your life. Promise me the same Yuuri." Viktor said. He could feel tears prick in his eyes now too.  
"Okay Vitya. Promise."  
Viktor sighed in relief. He laid another series of kisses to the top of Yuuri's head. Soon the younger was snoring softly in his arms again. Viktor only drifted in and out of sleep the rest of that early morning.

* * *

Neither of them spoke of the incident over breakfast. Yuuri plastered his "I'm stable" smile back on for Yuri and Nikolai. Yuri glanced to Yuuri with a level of concern but let it go. Yuri probably heard the screams from the night before, but Viktor had hinted to Yuri before that Yuuri had nightmares. Yuri let Viktor take care of those; it was not his place to intervene. Thanking Nikolai for the meal, they all caught the van taking them back to the arena. With Viktor's placement, he would be last to skate his free program. And that was even after the women's singles. So it would be a while.

While Viktor spoke with some sponsors Yuuri excused himself again to go hide in the Russian Team room. He did not expect anyone else to be in there at the time. Yakov and Lilia would be with Mila at ringside as she prepared to go out for her warm-up session. Yuri was probably hiding somewhere else messaging Otabek. So Yuuri entered the room expecting to have some time to himself to put himself together before facing the mobs of fans and reporters.

Yuuri should have known he'd be wrong.

"Hello Yuuri,"

Yuuri wiped around with a shocked expression. He adjusted his glasses, just to be sure. But there was no play of light. On the couch was a tall blue-eyed man in a black hoodie.

"Georgi?"

* * *

A/N: PLOT TWIST! WHAT IS GEORGI DOING AT THE ARENA? Find out next chapter. :D  
Thank you readers for your continued support. I appreciate you taking the time to read this story.


	16. Chapter 16 - A Reunion, A Fall & An End

Yuuri almost backed up when Georgi abruptly stood up, awkwardly taking off his hoodie and rubbing hand over the back of his head. He had an undercut now, though it was pretty subtle. And he wore eyeliner that was slightly smudged, probably from him rubbing his eye or something like that. Georgi also looked exhausted, bags under eyes and all. But it was definitely still Georgi.

"Georgi what are you doing here? I thought you weren't able to make it!" Yuuri asked, still mildly shocked at the abrupt appearance of the Russian after so many months.

Georgi looked around the ground, avoiding Yuuri's gaze. "I'm…I'm here to see Viktor. I wanted to surprise him…which is why I lied."

Yuuri felt something was off but tried to stay calm; it was just Georgi. "Oh umm…yeah. Of course; I'm sure Viktor will be so happy to see you. He'll definitely be surprised! I know I am…" Yuuri said, laughing awkwardly. Georgi returned an equally strained laugh. Yuuri kind of knew Georgi from when they practiced in St. Petersburg and all, but not that well. Definitely not as well as Viktor knew him. But Yuuri could not help but notice that Georgi was just…fidgety. His eyes were darting around and he was bouncing on his feet as if he were…nervous. As to why he would be Yuuri could not figure out. He could not possibly be anxious to meet Viktor again, right? Right…?

"Anyways Yuuri how have you been? I eh…watched your first qualifier; congrats on the medal. I thought you did very well."

"Thanks, though it could have gone better. Clumsy me," Yuuri laughed again, adjusting his glasses. "Umm…Viktor should be back soon. He was just talking to some press…"

It took Yuuri not to back away as Georgi walked closer and planted himself in front of Yuuri; Yuuri did not dare look to meet his gaze. Georgi tilted his head to the side as he watched Yuuri, as if contemplating what Yuuri had just said. Georgi's expression was pretty unreadable. It was really off-putting as Georgi was really known for his emotional outbursts and for wearing his feelings on his sleeves. But now Georgi was just being weird. He was…normal almost.

"Hmmm…well then I guess it's fine that I wait here?" Georgi inquired. Even his tone of voice was cooler and more even, creepier Yuuri felt. Yuuri nodded.

"Yeah…yeah of course. Just take a seat. Do you need anything? Water?"  
"Hmm…nah. I'm fine Yuuri. Just gonna hang here until Viktor arrives; surprise him, da?"

Yuuri nodded and grabbed the seat furthest from the chair Georgi now occupied. Not that he disliked him, and not that Yuuri did not find him a bit creepy before, but now Yuuri was really freaked out. They then sat in silence, facing opposite walls, each scrolling through his phone. Yuuri really concentrated on the random economics article he was reading, trying to forget that he was not alone. He felt eyes at the back of his head, but never once dared to turn around to abate his suspicions. Fortunately there were not alone together for too long, as a familiar call of Yuuri's name could be heard approaching the door. Yuuri quickly locked his phone and smoothed his hair and fixed his glasses. It was just one of his habits; Yuuri always made himself more presentable for other people, ever since he was young. He had yet to get used to not doing it every time Viktor came around.

* * *

"YUURI! I'M DONE WITH THE PRESS! COME TO RINK SIDE! LET'S WATCH THE OTHER SKATERS!" Viktor said, as he barged through the door. He caught Yuuri's eyes, then Yuuri's glance to another part of the room. Following that glance he spotted the other occupant. It took him a second but Viktor's jaw dropped slightly. He blinked a few times and walked in, shutting the door to the room behind him.

"Georgi?"  
"Sup Vitya."  
"GEORGI!"

And within the next second Viktor had run in skates and sprung himself like a koala bear around Georgi, who looked to be able to easily support the weight. Yuuri got to think that Viktor did this quite often then, if Georgi was expecting it so readily. The two friends began to chat in rapid Russian as Yuuri assumed them to be catching up and such. They were really close friends and rink mates, and Yuuri knew Viktor still missed his fellow skater at practice sometimes. Deciding to give the two some privacy and time to catch up Yuuri slipped out of the room and into the hallways, making his way to the rink. Yuuri had his phone with him and so plugged his earbuds in and listened to some music as he wandered the halls. The men's singles event had not started yet so Yuuri just strolled around passing time. Lost in the music he did not even notice that he was wandering away from the main area and to a staff area. No one stopped him or bothered to turn him around so Yuuri just kept walking. Only when he felt something hit him did Yuuri turn. There was no one facing him; there were several people passing by in both directions but there was no one in front or behind him. Looking down he saw a wadded up piece of paper; to his surprise it was written in Japanese. Or poorly translated Japanese, Yuuri was still able to comprehend the characters. His eyes widened as he digested the content and he felt sick.

 _You motherf***ing useless waste of space. You steal Viktor Nikiforov from us and you think we will let you go without consequence. I am the voice of reason; heed my commands or face the consequences. You are not meant to be with Viktor. You are not worthy you talentless piglet. Go back to your piggy pen and leave the proper people to play in the big leagues. I know where to find you; do not test me Katsuki. I will turn things right, even if I need to get Viktor involved. You wouldn't want precious Viktor to get hurt because of you now, would you? Nah, neither do I, but I will. And YOU will be the one to blame. Tah-tah piggy. You've been warned. I will carry my punishment if you choose to ignore me much longer, and there will be no mercy._

* * *

Yuuri looked around him, shocked and note shaking in his hands. There was no one. There was no one around him, and Yuuri was clueless as to who dropped the note, or how they knew he was there. How long had he been followed? Yuuri was shaking, eyebrows scrunched and equally conflicted and confused and mildly terrified. He still had the note clutched in his hand as he walked quickly back to the main area, back towards the rink. His eyes were down and his mind was not with him. Suddenly he bumped into someone and Yuuri let out a squeal, scooting back and eyes looking up instantly to see who it was. Blonde hair and emerald eyes, a string of Russian curse words; Yuri looked thoroughly annoyed as he swung around to see who bumped into him. His eyes scrunched when he saw Yuuri and he was about to start cursing again when he caught the passing terrified expression on Yuuri's face.

"Oi! Katsudon. Watch where you're going! Dafaq is wrong with you?"  
"Eh…he sorry Yuuri. My bad; I wasn't watching where I was going. Sorry. I'll be going now," Yuuri stuttered, stepping to the side and rubbing the back of his neck. Yuuri was still pretty shaken by the note. Yuuri had haters of course, and there were comments on his social media and stuff. But this was new; someone had followed Yuuri, and directly threatened him. Yuuri was scared.

"Oi, what is that you go in your hand?" Yuri asked, stepping forward to try and swipe the note out of Yuuri's hand. The Japanese man quickly withdrew his hand and stepped off to the side again, face revealing his terror. Yuri's eyes narrowed and he raised an eyebrow, clearly suspicious and picking up that something was not right with Yuuri.

"It's nothing. Just trash. Nothing important." Yuuri said quickly, scrunching the note quickly behind his back. Yuri narrowed his eyes more, really glaring at Yuuri now. Yuuri cringed internally under the younger's glare; Yuuri really hoped the younger would not push the subject further.

Yuri didn't.

Yuri scoffed and muttered something about blind pigs in Russian before shoving is headphones back on and walking away, bumping Yuuri as he passed. Yuuri let out a sigh and let his head drop. He continued to shuffle his way back to the locker room. Closing the door behind him, Yuuri found Viktor and Georgi still talking and laughing in their mother tongue. Yuuri waved as they acknowledged his entrance and went over to his bag, shoving the note below all his junk. Yuuri forced himself to calm down, thinking it was just an angry fan. He decided not to think too much about it, that it was a one-time thing and someone was just trying to scare him, that this was a prank. Right? Yuuri decided against telling Viktor. Viktor already had his hands full with Yuuri as it was, plus his comeback and his skating and the media and such. Yuuri already felt like a burden as it was; Yuuri did not want to add to the stress but having Viktor worry about a petty fan. Even if Yuuri was concerned, he could manage; there was no need to involve Viktor. There was no need to bring in Viktor; it was best not to distract Viktor further.

But for now, the warm-up session was going to start soon and Viktor needed to get to the rink. After yesterday's strong performance, there were very high expectations today. Standing up and clasping a hand on Georgi's shoulder Viktor made his way over to Yuuri and placed a hand on the small of his back. Seems Georgi was going to try and avoid as much attention as possible; he would slip out later to make his way into the spectator stands later. Waving good-bye to Georgi Viktor led Yuuri out of the room with him, heading to the rink. Viktor was smiling brightly, seemingly very happy after his reunion with Georgi. In his bliss he did not notice the forlorn look in Yuuri's eyes. They walked together to the rink, Viktor humming happily and Yuuri trying his best to keep an even expression. Though Viktor was good at reading people, Viktor was also easily distracted. In this case, Yuuri thanked that Viktor was too caught up in his own had to sense the tension surrounding Yuuri.

* * *

Yakov called Viktor over the moment they reached the ice. As Viktor came into the view of the arena cheers rang out from the crowd. Viktor happily waved back, throwing a few kisses to the crowd as well to the delight of his fans. Their prince of the ice Viktor Nikiforov had arrived. Yuri, Lilia, and Mila were there were there as well. Yakov and Viktor seemed to be going over some last minute things and what not. Yuuri caught Yuri glancing up from his phone at him, as if checking to see if Yuuri was still being weird. The younger Russian had the same scowling mask as ever, so Yuuri was not quite able to decipher what Yuri was thinking. Yuuri really hoped the younger was not going to say anything, especially not in front of Viktor. Viktor was always protective of Yuuri, overprotective at times though. Things had calmed down since the accident at Four Continents but Yuuri still caught Viktor holding himself back at times. Yuuri thought it was sweet though, but his anxiety told him that that more he bothered Viktor, the quicker Viktor would get sick of him, and leave. Yuuri's anxiety reared its head again sometime after Worlds, though it was nowhere near as bad as his pre-Viktor days. Still, he struggled with things.

Yuuri still had to remind himself sometimes that Viktor was not leaving, that they were engaged and that Viktor loved him unconditionally. And then there was Yuuri's weight, his image, his skating, his being with Viktor. Even now, when they had been together for almost a year, occasionally an article or comment would come out against the couple. Most of those types of people were blocked on social media when they were found, but still, one could always make more accounts. Yuuri was used to it for the most part, but his heart a still a bit squishy. Sometimes he had low points. But for the most part he keeps those from Viktor. For both their sakes Yuuri always pretends that everything is alright. And with Viktor so busy preparing for the next competition, Viktor tends to forget whenever he thinks something might be up with Yuuri.

Time passed by quickly and the skaters were soon called off the ice so the free programs could begin. Viktor stayed by Yuuri's side as they watched the other skaters' performances. There were some new talents, and they were impressive indeed. Viktor saw potential in all of them, and saw the future of skating in very bright and capable skates. Viktor had been on the ice for over two decades now; he barely remembers life before the ice. Yuuri brought him back off the ice, and created many warm memories off the ice to keep out the cold. Viktor was thankful, for Yuuri. Yuuri was his muse now; Yuuri was his life beyond the ice now. He would readily choose to never skate again if that's what it took to stay by Yuuri's side, even if they only came together because of skating. And for Yuuri, Viktor kept him on the ice at a time when he already had one foot off and the intention to never return. For Yuuri Viktor was the angel sent to save him, to relight the fire within in and bring love. Love. That's what is was for both of them. Yuuri admired Viktor for years; Viktor fell for Yuuri in an instant. To Viktor Yuuri was just as much of an angel. But of course they came with their flaws. They made each other cry; they almost never got together in the first place. They then almost broke apart. Still, one must know pain to contrast with pleasure. Yuuri always thought Viktor's wings would be the same beautiful grey as Viktor's hair. Yuuri would like to think if he would ever sprout wings, they'd be the same color, because he was Viktor's. Even if Yuuri went to hell, he would be fine if only his wings were the same grey as Viktor's hair. It was one of those odd thoughts he had the last time he got slightly tipsy and blabbed. Viktor thought the concept fit. Yuuri would embrace his eros and become with grey-winged seductive demon, luring men into hell with him. Yuuri did not remember much else of the conversation and woke up hella hungover the morning after.

* * *

Viktor was next, the last skater of the evening. The current high score stood at 325.56, held by Seung-Gil. The Korean was pretty new to the senior division but was already making an impact on the skating scene. But even when the scores of the skater in front of Viktor were being announced, the audience was beginning to become more excited as they knew their home country's star was up next.

As the first notes of Lensky's Aria rang through the speakers, the world watched as Viktor unraveled himself from his opening pose, eyes to the ceiling. He opened with a lunge, quickly switching into his step sequence leading into his first jump, a Quad Lutz. With its clean landing the crowd cheered; Viktor was off to a good start. Viktor absolutely sparkled in his costume. The top was a highly decorated black dress shirt with puffy sleeves, accented with overlapping designs in organic shapes, as if the thread were stems of plants that grew up the sides of his shirt. There was some heavy embroidering around the shoulders, reminiscent of shoulder pads. The sleeves were integrated with a mesh of silver, gold, and white mesh; it was so fine that from a far it looks to be lines of glitter rather than thread. Viktor wore simple black pants that hugged his every curve. The same golden designs that ran across his top also wrapped around the legs of his left pant leg, elegantly fading off to the boot. Viktor's hair was again loose and flowing. It was longer, the ends glazing past his shoulders; it was starting to look like his hair from his junior days.

Viktor moved out of his step sequence into his next jump, a Triple Axel with the difficult back entry. Then it was a Triple Salchow followed by a Triple Lutz. A spiral, a spin, another set of step sequence, then a Quad Toe-Loop, Triple Toe-Loop combination. Clean landing. With the last jump of the first half complete, Yuuri sighed from the side lines at just how beautiful his fiancé was on the ice. Viktor was working so much harder now due to his age, but the efforts seemed to be paying off. Viktor Nikiforov was still reigning, even if he was long past his prime.

Viktor moved into the next jump, a Triple Axel-Single Loop-Triple Salchow combination. Some more step sequence and Viktor briefly meets Yuuri's eyes as he turns. Those icy grey-blue eyes burned with such passion. Yuuri's own brown eyes were wide and glued to Viktor's every move; every move seemingly made from instinct and effortless.

A combination spin, some expressive moves, a spread eagle and some exaggerated facial expressions; next Viktor landed his Triple Lutz-Triple Flip combination. There were only two more jumps now.

Yuuri tried to keep his anxiousness to the minimum. He had all the confidence in the world for him, but Viktor had shifted his jumps around to the second half of his program for more points. And Viktor's stamina, which was better now, was still not the greatest. And that was even when Viktor was in his prime. Yuuri watched as Viktor led into his signature move, the Quad Flip. Breathes were held as Viktor rotated through the air. Landed. And then there was the last set of step sequence, and one last jump. Viktor took off from the ice for his Quad Salchow.

It only got three rotations, and the landing was shaky, and then Viktor fell. And if not for the music and the collective gasps and the audience and from around the world, one could hear a pin drop. Viktor recovered quickly, though now a bit dazed. Moving into his last combination spin, he stuck the ending as the last notes of music rang out. The crowd roared, chanting his name. Viktor felt like JJ in that instant; even if he screwed everything up his fan base was still behind him.

Yuuri had both hands over his mouth to hide the gasp. He looked around him. Yuri looked shell-shocked. Mila was gaping like a fish. Lilia had her eyebrow raised ever so slightly and Yakov had a slight crease in his brow. Yuuri had watched Viktor's every performance. Viktor had not fallen like that since…since his first Grand Prix almost a decade ago now. Yuuri was by no means disappointed, but he was shocked. Many were. Or some who kept predicting Viktor's downfall were not. Yuuri watched Viktor skate back to toward the Kiss and Cry, a few dog plushies and a flower crown gracing his head. He had that fake arrogant smile on, to hide his pain. Not physical pain, emotional. Viktor was just as shocked. But Viktor also looked as if to have already accepted his fate, that he was growing old and was no longer in his best shape, and no longer had the ability to maintain such a difficult program.

But his program was done. It was up to the judges now as to where he landed.

* * *

Yuuri was with Viktor on the bench this time, holding his hand. Viktor played with Yuuri's ring with his thumb and they waited. Yakov sat on the other side of Viktor, glaring straight ahead. Yuri was nearby as well, wanting to see Viktor's score as soon as possible too. Yuri was honestly disappointed; he figured he would be able to compete against Viktor when he was at his best, just to prove even more so that he was better. Yuri had suspicions that Yakov had trained him to be just that, the better Viktor. Yuri was a lot like young Viktor, personality-wise. When Viktor was younger, he apparently was even worse than Yuri in terms of ditching practice and overworking and not living healthily. The difference with Yuri was that he had family, and friends, and Otabek. Viktor had been so alone back then; at least he found happiness in the present.

Viktor needed to score above 206.66 to surpass Seung-Gil. Yuuri was trying to do some calculations in his head but gave up after a few seconds. Even with the flub at the end, the rest of Viktor's performance was solid. There were tiny, tiny flaws here and there but it was a strong performance. And Yuuri would be proud of him no matter what. They both knew the value beyond medals and ice. But still, Yuuri wondered how Viktor would take a loss. It would be Viktor's first loss in over 7 years.

The announcer's voice rang out and the crowd was bouncing in the stands. Viktor squeezed Yuuri's hand, which Yuuri squeezed back in reassurance. A quick glance to Yakov, a quite glance to Yuri on the sidelines who gave him a thumbs up, a look to Yuuri who had a small smile; the scores were totaled.

Viktor Nikiforov.

208.14.

Not a landslide, but Viktor had still done it. His streak lived on.

Seung-Gil looked on from the sidelines as well, letting out a long sigh, dropping his head. He glanced over to Viktor, glaring. Fortunately there seemed to be no malice behind the look. Viktor gave a small bow as he passed the younger, a sign of respect and acknowledging the immense talent of the Korean skater. It was a brief gesture, but it was a mutual acknowledgment between the two.

* * *

The medal ceremony came and went, Viktor took home yet another gold medal to no one's surprise. The Russian fanbase roared with pride for their star skater as usual. Soon after Viktor had chucked off his skates and the Russian team plus Yuuri were all back in a van leaving the arena. No one stopped to answer the media mob. Not even Mila and her own shiny gold medal. Even Yuri kept silent and did not bother to tell the reporters off, just following the rest of the group and shoving the van door behind him. Viktor just really wanted to go back to the apartment; it was easily understandable why Viktor wanted to be out of the public eye so badly. No one spoke of the incident either; Viktor knew well enough, and was probably beating himself up already. No one bothered to shame him further. Not even Yuri. Yuri was malicious at times, but he had bounds and a deep respect for Viktor. Therefore the ride away from the arena was silent.

When they got back to Nikolai's place, the old man was there to great Viktor and congratulate him on another medal earned. Viktor gave a smile and thanked the man. There was a short chat, as the crew was leaving early tomorrow morning back to St. Petersburg, but other than that Yuri returned to his room and Viktor and Yuuri retreated to the guest bedroom. Yuuri helped Viktor unzip and undressed himself as well. Viktor, now in the privacy of Yuuri's presence, let his guard down. Viktor was brooding, obviously disappointed in the mistake. He was not overly upset or devastated, but Viktor was critical of himself to a degree. It seemed he thought maybe he scored higher than he deserved. Maybe the judges had been biased. Maybe. Yuuri led Viktor with him into the shower and warmed the water up. Viktor let Yuuri wash him of the day's events, scatting so the younger could reach his hair. When Yuuri was done Viktor turned him around and hugged Yuuri from behind. Viktor sighed deeply and set his head to snuggle into the nape of Yuuri's neck while holding him close by the hips. Yuuri let him, lifting a hand back to massage Viktor's scalp. No words were needed this time either; Viktor just needed a bit of time and a pinch of reassurance to let the day's events fade away, down the drain with the shower water. Viktor did not care that much; he still had Yuuri, and Yuuri was the greatest treasure of them all.

Stepping out of the shower Viktor toweled them both off and they dressed in their sleepwear. They packed their bags in preparation for the next day. They then joined Yuri and his grandfather out in the main area for dinner. They chatted idly over another delicious home-cooked meal. It was nice, and the tension that surrounded Viktor was cleared away. Yuri glanced over occasionally and seemed to have noted the change as he gave Yuuri a look as well, as if he was thanking Yuuri for existing. As much as he saw Yuuri as a rival, he did make Viktor happy. If Viktor deserved anything above all else by now, it was happiness. Happiness and a deep relationship and romantic love, all things Yuri himself could never have given Viktor. Yuri was once jealous, just because he stole Viktor away. Yuri did have a mild crush on Viktor many years ago, much like the one Yuuri had. But Yuri understood soon enough just what Yuuri was to Viktor. And he accepted it, and was happy for them. Besides, Otabek was a much better fit for Yuri than the overgrown man-child that Yuuri was now saddled with.

* * *

The days passed as they all kept training in St. Petersburg. Viktor left for the Trophée de France first. He came back with another gold. Viktor, as expected, was headed to the finals with his solid win streak intact. Yuri had messaged Otabek "Davai" before his programs. Thus, Viktor returned bearing a gift from him: a cat plushie. Yuri blushed and muttered a curse to Viktor and retreated to his room soon after to speak with Otabek directly.

Yuri left after, for the Cup of China. He came back with silver, having lost gold to Phichit; Yuuri knew even before Yuri got on the plane as his best friend was posting selfies. Yuri…had seemed off as he was skating the free program. Only after Yuri returned to Russian did Viktor force a confession from the younger. Yuri had screwed up his ankle 2 days prior to the short program, and had told no one. On one hand, Viktor was impressed that Yuri still managed to skate so well on a sprained ankle. But Viktor got Yakov in as well and Yuri got an angry and stern lecturing from the both of them. Yuuri acted as the mediator and actually tried to defend Yuri a bit. Yuuri was a lot gentler with his chastening, which Yuri appreciated. Yuri was then bared from the ice for the rest of the week. Yuri really was lucky he did not mess up his ankle even more, especially when performing programs as strenuous as his.

The last qualifier of the season was NHK. Yuuri would be returning to Japan. His family would meet him there. Viktor was once again going to stay behind, because he needed to practice too. The Grand Prix was but one more competition away. They all needed to be at their best. Yuuri did not want Viktor to be distracted from his own training. It took a long conversation that lasted well into many early mornings, but Yuuri finally got Viktor to agree to stay behind. Yuri was tasked to make sure that it stayed that way.

So now Yuuri found himself facing the ice once again, ready to take center stage for his short program. There was a chance that if he did not place well today he would not be continuing to the finals. That could not happen. Old Yuuri would freak out and probably flunk the performance just because he worked himself up too much. But Yuuri was calm. Viktor believed in him, so he believed in himself.

So Yuuri took the ice once again, taking his starting pose. It was just him, and the music, and Viktor's eyes from across the sea. Yuuri was going to show his love to Viktor once again.

* * *

A/N: Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up as soon as possible. I apologize for putting up fewer chapters. It's been getting more hectic in school and I haven't had as much time to write. I'll continue though, for sure. Comments and reviews and PMs are welcome if any suggestions need to be made.


	17. Chapter 17 - Endgame

A/N: Sorry. Got busy. Hope you're still enjoying the story so far!

It started up again soon when they got back from Moscow after Viktor's victory at Rostelecom. After Rostelecom, it back to practice, practice, and more practice. It was especially so for Viktor, who would soon leave for France for his second assignment; it would yet again be a few days he would be separated from Yuuri.

After his stumble Viktor was just…off for a few days. It was just really, really, really weird for him to fall for the first time in competition in so many years. It was so long ago. Viktor kept telling himself that he no longer cared what the world thought of him, but he sort of still did. It had been his lifestyle for years. All Viktor had for many, many years was the ice and the acclaim showered upon him. He immersed himself in the lifestyle of parties and lavish luxuries and fame when he was not practicing. He was the arrogant uncaring flirting playboy the media played him out to be. He did sleep around a few times, and had a relationship or two when he was younger, but he was alone. He let himself fall into the mask the media made for him. It was easier that way, to pretend the loneliness was not getting to him, that he was on top of the world and he had everything. The mask faded over time; by his fifth Grand Prix medal, it was barely there and Viktor was too tired to keep it on all the time. He was succumbing to his loneliness.

Then came Yuuri, and Viktor finally let the mask fall for good into the dusk. He did not need it anymore.

Even so, the fall affected Viktor more than he liked. It just had not fully sunk in that he would be leaving the ice soon. It had always been an "eventually", but it had turned into a "soon", as in the next year or the year after; Viktor gave it no more than another 3. He was tired. And he was happy as Yuuri's coach. But the transition from competitor to coach last year was sudden, and only after Yuuri's silver medal did Viktor really have the time to contemplate and let the situation sink in. And therefore the transition was bumpy. But even then, Viktor was still the idealized perfect master of ice.

But Viktor Nikiforov was only human. And he was stretching to 30, long past his prime. And an aging human like him was bound to make an error at some point. They had been so very subtle at first; it was a under rotated spin here, a missed step there, a shaky landing, a hand on the ice, and then a fall all together. It was just strange for Viktor, and for the public too. Sure the public realized Viktor was older now and was starting to be outshined by the younger generation, but still they still saw him as the best. The fall was proof to the public that his reign was ending. The skating media noted it, and were critical. Viktor expected it off course. Still, it stung. It really stung.

* * *

Yuuri noticed, when they got back. Yakov was kind, allowing them to take the following day off. Same went for Yuri and Mila as well. They got back to St. Petersburg in the early afternoon, since they flew out in the morning. Viktor kind of sat by the window of their apartment, glazing out into the streets below, petting Makkachin absentmindedly. His gold medal was already shoved into the trophy room with the rest. Yuuri's medals were still pinned in the master bedroom, as to not be overshadowed by Viktor's many years' worth of award. Yuuri too had a fair share of trophies and medals; those were all left with his parents and proudly displayed in all parts of the onsen. Yuuri had sat next to him on the padded window ledge. He sat opposite Viktor, hugging his legs to his chest and looking out the window as well. Viktor didn't turn to face him, but they could communicate well enough without having to say a word. It wasn't that the air was tense, but Viktor wasn't exactly being the extremely happy and hyper guy he usually was. Yuuri waited. Viktor looked as if he needed to talk, and Yuuri would be there to listen.

It took a lot of Yuuri's reassurances that Viktor was still widely admired and had already solidified his place in the history books and was already a legend and would remain so long after he was gone. Viktor's glass heart and ego were easily bruised, but Yuuri stayed and patiently wrapped the wounds and put the pieces back in place. He acted as Viktor's support, he stayed for Viktor's anxiety rather than the other way around for once. Yuuri thought it was only fair, to repay Viktor for all that he had done for Yuuri. Viktor was always there for Yuuri, so why shouldn't he do the same. That first evening back in St. Petersburg, with Makkachin safely locked out of the room and their phones silenced and shoved aside Yuuri let Viktor have his way with him. It was slow and drawn out as they kept their eyes on one another, the air warmed with their shallow breaths and small moans and the heat that radiated from their joined bodies. It was intimate and slow as Viktor expressed his love and fears through the deep thrusts inside of Yuuri. He held Yuuri to him, his nose buried into Yuuri's neck the entire time as Yuuri pressed kisses across his hairline. Viktor just really needed Yuuri; Yuuri was his everything now. Yuuri, his love, his fiancé, the fire that burned in his soul and kept him warm against the unforgiving ice. He'd give anything for Yuuri; he trusted Yuuri completely, and could no longer imagine a life with the Japanese skater in it. The night shifted into dawn in a flurry of touches and brushing kisses and gentle lovemaking. Afterwards Viktor was encased in Yuuri's hold, as if Yuuri was sheltering him from the world. Viktor was thankful; he could not be happier or more content than he felt against his beloved.

When they returned to the rink Yuuri seemed to have already updated everyone as absolutely no one brought up the performance. It was just a normal practice day with Yakov barking at everyone. Viktor was content with such. Viktor had to leave for France next, and then after that he had finals, and he did not plan to disappoint. He had to be at his best and really make Yuri and Yuuri work for it. In Viktor's mind, Yuuri was better simply because he had more of his heart on the ice; Yuri was technically extraordinary, but he was still young and growing. And Yuri's body was changing; he had gained height recently. Viktor felt bad; his own growth had been horrible and his skating suffered. Still, he wished the best for both his students. They would finally meet on the ice in competition once again in a few weeks. Viktor was looking forward to it, to see how far they've come, and to see them dethrone him if they can. Not that Viktor had any doubts that they totally could, but he would never admit that. Viktor would not hand his crown over easily.

* * *

Viktor was already gone for two days when it hit Yuuri. He woke up feeling exhausted, burnt out, and nauseous. In summary, he woke up feeling as if he had been crushed by 30 semi-trucks and promptly thrown out of a plane and landed in a construction site. Physically it was the typical soreness that came with practice, but his mind had this dark cloud glooming over. Then the thoughts started to seep in. Since Barcelona and Viktor Yuuri's anxiety was not as prevalent. He stayed busy, which typically did not allow him the time to soak in his own thoughts. Even when he went home every night, he was just always too exhausted and usually fell asleep quite readily upon hitting the bed. Yuuri had just stayed…distracted. Still his anxiety came in waves, and usually they would pass. The worst wave since his Grand Prix fail had only lasted a few weeks. Still, when Yuuri woke up he was bombarded.

" _He doesn't want you. You're a burden. Viktor pities you. They all only pity you. You're pathetic. What are you doing with Viktor? You always get in everyone's way. You failed. You Failed. You FAILED. FAILURE! You DISGRACE, you FAILURE!"_

Yuuri had the day off. No one was expected to check in on him. Viktor was not there. Yuuri was too reluctant to seek help otherwise; he was in Russia. He was away from his family, away from Viktor, away from anyone who could help him. He was alone. Yuuri was alone. Yuuri felt so alone.

" _You are not good enough. You will never be good enough. Everyone is disappointed in you. Everyone will always be disappointed with you. You're too weak, too stupid, too talentless and a waste of space. You literal waste of space. Look how big you've gotten, PIGGY. Even Viktor sees how much fatter you've gotten; no wonder you've never made anything of yourself, PIGGY. PIGGY. DROP SOME POUNDS PIGGY!"_

Yuuri was completely incapable of moving from his position in bed. He stayed curled under the sheets, staring at the opposite wall as his mind was invaded on all sides by the thoughts he worked so hard to dismiss. Yuuri was usually better at grounding himself in reality, looking to Viktor and his own medals, and reminding himself of how far he'd come, and how much he had now. He had Viktor, Viktor who loved him and would do anything to make him happy. Viktor, his fiancé. Viktor CHOSE him. Viktor chose HIM. Viktor wanted HIM. Viktor wanted him. Viktor wanted…him?

" _He's doing it out of pity"_

No.

" _He doesn't actually want you. It's a publicity stunt. Or a cruel joke."_

No. STOP.

" _Why would he ever want you? A fat failed skater from a tiny town in Japan. You're nothing,"_

. . .

Yuuri continued to stare blankly at the walls and ceiling and the grey light that flowed in on the cold overcast Russian morning. But internally, he was screaming. Yuuri felt as if he were clutching his head, trying to block out the negatives that his own mind was using to bring him back down. His own mind was so set to destroy him all over again. Yuuri was panicking on the inside, screaming his lungs sore on the inside, choking on the inside; on the inside Yuuri was dying. But no one was around to see it. A few tears flowed down his pale emotionless expression, but little else revealed the inner turmoil. The battle lasted for what felt to be hours, when really it was only a few minutes. After those never-ending minutes the voices seemed to have died down, cutting off abruptly so that all that was left were Yuuri's own shallow breaths in reality and the frantic beating of his heart and the still air around the bedroom.

Yuuri was then able to pull himself out of bed, and make some coffee and some toast with jam. He could not finish his small meal though. His stomach lurched as he tried to consume the small amount of food.

" _Piggy."_

The remains were disposed of, and Yuuri found himself curled on the coach with Makkachin's head resting in his lap as he absentmindedly stroked the dog's fur. Yuuri felt numb. The TV was on and BBC was running news but he did not hear or really digest any of his. The haze over his mind, the numbness and feelings of helplessness and sadness did not lift. The fog continued to cloud his mind, occasionally shooting rounds of attacks off. Yuuri lacked the energy to do anything else, but sit and be lost in his own thoughts.

When Viktor checked in later that morning and asked how Yuuri was doing, Yuuri did not mention anything. After all, Viktor was away at a competition. Who was Yuuri to dump his struggles onto Viktor and worry him and give Viktor more stress and imped Viktor's performance. The least Yuri could do was to keep his whining to himself and let Viktor focus. Viktor deserved at least that basic respect from Yuuri. So Yuuri said nothing. He smiled for the camera and lied about how productive he was being. Viktor, distracted by the competition and buzz around him, failed to pick up on the remnants of sadness that still swirled in Yuuri's eyes, or the slight crease upon his brow, or just how forced Yuuri's smile looked. So Viktor knew not of the epic war waged in Yuuri's mind from that morning. To Viktor, Yuuri was still Yuuri and was just fine. He was fine without Viktor.

After Viktor hung up, Yuuri found himself crying into a throw pillow, knees drawn to his face. He alternated between sobbing and just letting the tears flow. It had happened before too, just never in front of Viktor. Somehow Yuuri was still so reluctant to have his periods in front of Viktor. Yuuri was afraid of scaring Viktor away, or was too embarrassed. At least at how bad it was right now Yuuri had always done his best to hide it. He'd lie to Viktor when he had to. He'd hide in the bathroom and muffle the noise between towels and running water. Yuuri was skilled in hiding behind the masks of tranquility. After years of having to do so, it was only natural.

Viktor had his suspicions. He had been around for some of the milder attacks. Yet, not for these. Yuuri continued to hide these. He felt it was for the best.

The cloud cleared for the most part by the afternoon, and Yuuri went to practice on his own at the rink. Well, not really practice. He just skated around, letting his mind wander. He joined up with the Russian team later for a meal, and stayed around until long after the sun had set. It was a welcome distraction for Yuuri. Any distraction was a blessing. Yuuri was scared of his own mind in a great many ways. But he doubted much could be done to help. So he continued to cope silently, taking it day to day.

That night, insomnia kept Yuuri awake for more hours than usual. He was not even sure when he finally faded to black. The following morning he went to practice, shoved the ball of negativity to the tiniest chasms of his mind, and practiced. Nothing was wrong. Yuuri was fine. Completely. Fine.

* * *

In a hotel room in France Viktor was unable to sleep as well. He had spoken to Yuuri earlier that morning, before he was set to perform his free program. Yuuri seemed to be well enough, and Viktor could not detect anything that should be of worry. But Viktor's gut was just screaming at him that something was wrong. Even from hundreds of thousands of miles away and a two hour time difference, Viktor could feel that something was off. As he skated out for his practice session Viktor noted to himself to call Yuuri again later. But Viktor was forgetful.

Viktor was easily distracted, by the press, by the other skaters, by the fans and the flurry of events going around him. Viktor got his opportunity to catch up with Christophe. The two long time skate-mates had a great many talks as they had not seen each other for a few months now. Viktor had a brief chat with Otabek, who was also competing. The two only really knew other more now because of Yuri, whom most of their chat stayed with. Ironically Otabek who had not seen Yuri in months knew more of the younger Russian's condition than Viktor, who saw Yuri every day practically. Yuri…was still keeping mostly to himself despite his temper leveling out mostly. Yuri was closer to Yuuri than Viktor, which Viktor could sort of understand; Yuuri was the more likeable of the pair it seemed. But still, Yuri rarely stuck around otherwise. But Viktor was glad that he had Otabek. The two had grown so much closer, especially since Otabek had last been in St. Petersburg. Viktor was grateful that Yuri trusted the Kazakh skater enough to talk about his internal struggles. Otabek and Yuri had only been a couple for a few months, but they had built a deep relationship based on trust and understanding. Yuri was growing up.

After the events of the day, Viktor once again walked away with gold. Chris received silver and Otabek with bronze; the three all qualified for the finals. Assuming Yuri, Yuuri, and Otabek all medaled at their last events, it seemed that five of the finalists were already secured. As for the last one, it was still sort of up in the air between a few skaters, including Phichit and JJ.

But lost in the events and pomp of the celebrations after the medal ceremony Viktor only escaped to his hotel room late into the night. He had gotten a congratulatory text from his fiancé within minutes of the score announcements, but Viktor had not yet gotten to looking over his phone. Only now, hours later did he see the message and smile to himself. Chris had to be dragged off by his lover too many flukes of Champaign; Otabek did not even bother to go out with the other skaters to celebrate after the ceremony. Looking to his phone after getting back to the hotel room, it was already 11:05 PM; Yuuri would have gone to bed around. Viktor did not call; he gut was telling him to, but Yuuri still had practice the next morning and he did not want to wake him up on a whim. It did not sit well with Viktor, but he convinced himself that Yuuri was completely fine. Yuuri had said so himself that morning. Viktor would return to him soon.

Viktor sighed as he had a few weeks free from competition now that both his qualifies were successfully conquered; it was a nice way to go out. Viktor was definitely not against going out and retiring as a victor. Though, should he lose to Yuuri, he would have no qualms. Now more relaxed Viktor took a shower, cleaned up his items a bit and went to bed. He still had the exhibition the next day but that was for fun. Viktor have a rather dreamless night, still having that off-feeling in his stomach as he drifted off.

When he returned to Russia Yuuri was at the airport with Makkachin and open arms, which Viktor ran right into as he cuddled against the shorter man, cooing his name and saying how happy he was to be back and how much he missed Yuuri. Yuuri replied that he missed Viktor too and congratulated him once again on the win. _"Another medal to add to the wall, and nothing more really,"_ Viktor mushed to himself. He was much happier to be back with Yuuri and their beloved Makkachin. Viktor indeed noticed the barely there dark circles under Yuuri's eyes and the slight twitch of his pupils and lips as Yuuri smiled, which pointed to a mask but Viktor did not push it. He really, really did not want to start something right after he got back. Either way, they went home, dropped off Viktor's luggage and went to have a meal with the Russian team. Mila and Yuri congratulated Viktor as always, Yakov grunted and nodded in approval. After that, it was all small talk. But the situation was getting more and more tense. The Grand Prix Final approached steadily and the need to succeed intensified with each passing moment.

* * *

The table housed 4 Grand Prix finalists, plus Alania who unfortunately did not qualify this year. That was all they talked out over their meal. The venue, the competition, the techniques, the programs, their costumes and so on. For the senior men's it was mostly the same people from the previous year, but now Viktor was back. For Yuri it was the worst and best thing; he was going to get the chance to meet his idol across the ice after all. But it was fricken Viktor Nikiforov, and so far Yuri lost to him at Worlds. Yuri wanted to win, and to prove that he was the best Viktor had to go down. For Yuuri, he was nervous. He too was finally going to meet his idol across the ice, but Yuuri had no confidence in his ability to beat Viktor. He really did not; if not for Viktor Yuuri would not even be a skater. His skating was very much like Viktor's, and he doubted he could beat the master. Yuuri never admitted it to Viktor, but somehow he was pretty sure his fiancé knew of his doubts. Viktor had been nothing but supportive of Yuuri the last few months. Viktor had not been as critical of Yuuri, and it was not because Yuuri was making fewer mistakes. Even now as he was headed to NHK, he struggled with his jumps. Especially the Quad Flip. Yuuri was practicing so far past the point of exhaustion but he still felt so unprepared. And there was pressure to succeed; he needed to win in his home country, and his placement in the final was not yet secure.

The pressure, and the return on his anxiety, was really not helping Yuuri. But he continued to push through. He landed his jumps more consistently, but he continued to worry.

Yuri soon left for the Cup of China and returned with silver. Now Yuuri would REALLY hate himself if he screwed up his last competition and could not qualify for finals. Yuuri continued to drown away on the inside, even as he hugged and kissed Viktor goodbye at the airport and boarded his plane. He was still worried as he embraced his family after he landed. Even the next morning, as he was getting dressed and warming up on the ice, his nerves were still shaky.

He thought of his family and Minako and Yuuko and Takeshi and the triplets. He thought of Phichit and his fellow skaters and competitors. He thought of the fans, especially Minami whom he encountered early. The young skater had grown a lot in the last year and Yuuri was happy and very encouraging of him. They had kept somewhat in touch over the last year or so. Yuuri thought of Yurio and Mila and the others, his rink mates who were watching in anticipation from across the sea. They had supported him in his transition to Russia when Viktor wasn't with him. They were his second family now. Yuuri thought of Viktor, his love, his fiancé. Viktor believed in him. Viktor was waiting for him.

Yuuri skated to the center of the ice, thoughts of Viktor and his beautiful smile and his encouragements still ringing. Yuuri let go as the music began, letting his mind go blank. It was just the ice, the music, and himself. And Viktor. He was skating to show Viktor how far he'd come, and how much he had Viktor to thank for.

Once his mind returned, Yuuri tuned in to the roaring crowd and the shower of sushi plushies; he had done well it seemed. Very well. Yuuri looked around to the adoring crowd. His family was in the stands, with their signs and were cheering and clapping loudly. Yuuri smiled, bowed and waved, and exited the ice.

He made his way over to the Kiss and Cry and sat down, looking straight forward intently as he awaited his scores to be announced. Of course then he did not notice the figure approaching from the other side of the area, walking toward the bench. Yuuri perked up when he heard the crowd start cheering, thinking that the scores were out. But that wasn't it. The crowd was chanting. Chanting-

Yuuri felt someone plop down next to him and wrap an arm around his shoulder.

"Well done Yuuri; I'm so happy for you. You were beautiful out there."

Yuuri turned to the side, wide eyed and expectant. Yup; he had to be delusional. Silver hair, grey-blue eyes, heart-shaped smile and a trench coat. There was NO WAY Viktor was here. Did Viktor SERIOUSLY fly over without telling Yuuri to surprise him?

Then again, that was totally something Viktor Nikiforov would do. He WAS always going on and on about surprising people.

It took Yuuri every sense of self-restraint to keep a straight face, to even glare at Viktor jokingly. He must have cracked because Viktor just laughed at him. Yuuri joined him in laughter soon after and snuggled closer to his fiancé to await the scores. They were together again; all would be okay.

* * *

A hooded figure retreated from its stance behind the screen of the Kiss and Cry. With the unexpected appearance of the Russian skater all its plans had to be scraped. Viktor would stay with Yuuri all the time; that much would be true. And where Viktor went, so did the cameras. There was too much risk of getting caught. Foiled once again, the figure opened a laptop and did some recalculating and some further research.

" _My patience is waning, Viktor. I don't want to hurt you, but if you keep getting in the way between me and the useless pig some things can then no longer be avoided. Soon. Soon I will fix everything. I will be thanked, as I shall cleanse the world. I am doing this for your own good Viktor; you belong with someone else, someone more…worthy. I've climbed this far up; it is a long fall, but I'd happily go down a martyr. All for him. Always for him. My one and only, who has been neglected for so long. Yes, Katsuki. Your time is drawing to a close; you're coming down with me. No one will save you this time…"_

With that, the figure crept away from its area and retreated away from the peering eyes of the public.

* * *

A/N: Feel free to drop a comment or PM me! I'll update as soon as I can; I promise this story will go to completion, so just hang in there for me. I appreciate the continued the support; thanks for reading!


	18. ON HIATUS UNTIL MID-MAY 2017

Okay so I haven't updated in over a month now; whoops

Sorry. School. I'm a high school senior.

I feel bad, for leaving you all hanging; I'm sorry.

I'll start updating again around mid-May, after I finish AP testing and all.

Thank you for your continued support.

Sincerely,

The Author


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